


A twinkle in the night

by Hexxie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gryffindor, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Love, M/M, Multi, Other, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, cross-house pairings!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-16 21:38:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9290660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexxie/pseuds/Hexxie
Summary: Imara had always known she was a witch - it was no secret. But the day her letter from Hogwarts arrived, it was an exciting surprise. Her uncle brought her to Diagon Alley almost immediately, and after she got her dragon core wand and the rest of her belongings, she got ready for what it felt like the longest summer she'd ever had.PLEASE, note that this story was made a long time ago (before the Cursed Child was released), so any divergences from the canon universe are not intended in a bad way.





	1. A special date

The train station was bursting with people. The mob moved in all sort of paces - some hurried, bumping into the slower ones who were visibly not in a rush to get anywhere. Maybe they were waiting, maybe they were the quiet kind. One could not tell.  
  
Imara didn't actually enjoy moving with the crowd. She wasn't used to being among great groups of people: the life she had spent home had not prepared her for this, and when she collided with a visibly older boy who looked at her as if she had just smashed a cake into his face, she decided that she would prefer shearing a distressed sheep rather than dealing with other human beings.  
  
"Sorry, sorry", her uncle grumbled in a friendly way, so that the guy would move on while shaking his head in a disapproving manner. "We really have to keep moving", uncle Jak told her as he held her hand. "The train is probably about to depart, and we don't want you to be late on your first day of school, do we?"  
  
"No..." she muttered to herself. She wasn't really sure about this. Did she want to spend the rest of her teenhood in a strange boarding school she knew nothing about? Was she a shy person? How could she tell? She had never had to face direct confrontation with any other kid her age, and she felt totally oblivious as to the way they socialized, the things they liked or what they might abhor. Would they abhor her?  
  
"They better don't", she stated in a confident way, clenching her fists. It was not her who had to deal with people: it would be THEM who would have to deal with her. Especially if they treated her wrong.  
  
"Whoa, whoa, squeezing my hand already? We haven't said goodbye yet!" he exclaimed with a guffaw. They stopped at a wall that didn't look any special, apart from a sign that said "Platform 9 ¾". Imara scowled at the sight of it, but then shook her head: by the time, she should have gotten used to British wizards and their eccentric ways. Letting go of her hand, uncle Jak tilted his head sideways and spoke in a low tone:  
  
"This is where we are leading. I know you can do it on your own. Walk towards it with conviction; you have nothing to worry about."  
  
Straightening herself, she got hold of the enormous suitcase her uncle had been carrying around for her and practically ran towards the wall.  
  
A fresh breeze caressed her face. When she opened her eyes again, she was in a different place. It didn't feel like she had been teleported to a different station, but instead, it just seemed as if she had entered a door to another platform. "That's it", her uncle popped up behind her: "the Hogwarts Express".  
  
A huge steam machine welcomed hundreds of kids and teenagers, most of which were already behind the glass windows of it. Some adults were hugging their offspring, others were just checking their luggage. Imara caught sight of some brown owls, rats and cats, and remembered that pets were allowed in the school. Her uncle and her had decided not to get her any companion, as the family owl, Máni, would do the honors as her messenger and feathered friend.  
  
"It's almost time, Imara" uncle Jak smiled at her. "Write me anytime you want, and... keep up with homework, I guess?"  
  
"Uncle Jak, do you think the other kids will accept me?"  
  
"Well, I hope they do, because I don't want to receive any letter from the school stating that you have been breaking some noses."  
  
She couldn't stifle a brief laugh, and looked at her uncle in the eye, who was now kneeling to face her. She was definitely not a tall preteen for her age. "I will try not to punch many people", she acknowledged with an emerging smirk. "But I can't promise I won't if they do deserve it".  
  
A whistle was heard all along the platform. The tall man stood up again and rubbed her hair in a playful way. "Fighting is not a good way of making friends, but I trust your choices. Just don't get expelled too early."  
  
Imara hugged him in a clasp so tight she heard his air coming out of his lungs, which he accompanied with a lighthearted laugh.  
  
"Jeg er glad i deg", she said to him, and scurried to get in the train.  
  
She was thankful for the fact that the train was big and noisy enough for her to know where it was without having to jump or walk on her tiptoes. The place was so overcrowded she wouldn't even be able to see uncle Jak if she looked back. Finding some trouble slipping by, since she was carrying a trunk that actually felt bigger than her, she finally reached one of the train doors and jumped in just in time for it to auromatically close. The engine roared, and the wheels started to slowly rotate. Passing by other students, she wandered until she found an empty compartment and got in. By the time she was finished lifting her trunk up the shelves, she overheard some girls' conversation as they walked by the door of the compartment.  
  
"I swear to Merlin, how many Weasleys are there in school this year?", one of them groaned in complaint.  
  
Imara stood and shrugged, thinking that a weasley was probably some kind of magical creature of some sort. Maybe a fluffy one. It did indeed sound like a fluffy one. She was about to close the door of the carriage when she thought she heard someone... crying?  
  
Without hesitation, she raced through the corridor as fast as she could, dodging students, cats and a woman who was apparently carrying sweets in a cart. When she got to a closed door that looked different from the compartment ones (this one not having a glass rectangle you could see through), she was totally able to differ the voice she had heard before. Someone was sobbing, a youngster possibly. She also noted a deeper voice, probably trying to calm the kid down. She gently pushed the door open.  
  
"Don't listen to them", an older boy with bushy black hair was murmuring. He was dark skinned and his height probably reached to 5'6" when standing. "Did you come here to keep bullying him?" he said, turning his eyes upon Imara.  
  
"Uh, eh, well no, obviously. I- I actually don't mean to pry on other people's business, but I was worried as to why someone would be crying on this train"  
  
The older guy actually seemed to shake it off, and kept trying to console the boy with the white hair. He looked terribly anxious, and he had replaced the tears by nervously fidgeting with his fingers. He was sitting on top of a toilet, hands on his lap and body stiff.  
  
"I just- I- I don't know how to make friends" he stuttered in the mufflest of tones.  
  
"Well you obviously don't need friends who are any like those wankers. They are prejudiced pricks who don't know a thing about you, so you shouldn't care about what they say to you. Especially when they mean it in a hurtful way. Quickly", he turned his head to Imara, "get him a Chocolate Frog".  
  
"A- a chocolate... ok, ok" she managed to say while exiting the toilet.  
  
Eventually, she found out that you could get Chocolate Frogs from the cart woman, but they came with a price. She babbled some incoherent words while searching for her pockets in order to find the wizard money she had been given, but she hoped this could help. Maybe those had some cheering properties. Who knew. By the time she was back in the toilet, the blonde kid was no longer crying, and looked slightly less uneasy.  
  
"Here", she handed the tall guy the Chocolate Frog.  
  
"Oh, no", he chuckled. "I was joking when I asked for the frog, but hey, you actually did it. First years are so easy to mold".  
  
Imara bit the inside of her mouth, but decided to go with the flow.  
  
"Hey", she casually addressed the blonde one, "there you go. I don't know how to make friends either, so I'm giving you this and hoping you actually do like chocolate. My name is Imara."  
  
The boy held the frog in his trembling hands. He looked deeply confused that someone was actually giving him something for the sake of being nice, but he accepted it with a small nod and looked at her for the very first time.  
  
"My-my name is Aaron Abbey."  
  
"Will you look at that", the taller guy said "he has a name".  
  
Imara was not actually sure if she felt annoyed or amused by this person, but when he held his hand out for her to shake, she concluded that he might turn to be nice.  
  
"León", he communicated in a clear tone. "I would tell you guys my family names, but those are too hard for you English speaking peeps to pronounce."  
  
"Hey, English is not my mother tongue", Imara interjected.  
  
"Oh, she comes with a surprise", León responded with a curious look in his eyes. "What if you tell us about that in a way more comfortable place?"  
  
They walked to her formerly empty compartment, which was now inhabited by a dirty blonde haired girl. She looked at them and politely got up of her seat.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry", she said, her hands crossed in a worried way. "I didn't mean to intrude on your compartment. I can leave if you want me to".  
  
"Why would you?" Imara asked in a cordial way, sitting besides the place the girl just occupied. She tapped the couch for the girl to seat again, which she did, a friendly and refined smile on her face. "I am Imara, and these are Aaron and... León?"  
  
"Don't pretend you forgot my name", he retorted, loosely sitting in front of them. Aaron was already by his side, a faintly concerned expression in his eyes. He kept looking everywhere but them, dodging their eyes. Even so, he looked way more relaxed than he was before, and at least, he was not crying anymore, although his eyes were still watery and pink.  
  
"It's nice to meet you all", the other girl told in a suave and sweet tone. "My name is Helga Smith."  
  
"Just like the house founder?" León asked her.  
  
"Certainly," she answered, her grey eyes on him. "All of my magical family members were placed in Hufflepuff, so I'm hoping to get sorted in that house as well."  
  
"Well, let's hope you live up to the expectation" León commented, hands behind his head. He looked even taller that way, wich made Imara feel like all of the newcomers were way younger than they actually were. "No one in my family has gone to Hogwarts before me, so you can guess it was kind of a shocker when I got the letter."  
  
"Wait" Imara cut off, feeling quite disoriented. "What on Earth are you guys talking about?"  
  
"A letter is usually a piece of paper with some writing on it that-" León started.  
  
"No", she went on, scowling at him. "I mean, what about houses? Do students live in houses? Is Hogwarts a schooling neighborhood or what?"  
  
"Sort of", León admitted.  
  
"A house is more of a family", Helga informed her. "Every time new students arrive at the school, they get sorted into one of the four different houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."  
  
"I will probably forget those names rather quickly", Imara ventured, her mouth twitching.  
  
Helga let out a light chuckle and continued:  
  
"You probably won't. People spend most of their spare time with their house mates, in their Common room. And, you see, everyone just keeps talking about their houses, even when people are not students anymore. Your sorting is quite important when it comes to socializing in Hogwarts, I assume. I hope it doesn't make connecting with others any hard".  
  
"Oh, but it is a pain in the ass", León declared. "Some blokes just care too much about what house you're in. But don't be fooled, there are wankers in every house - no offense, Helga."  
  
"None taken", she honestly admitted. "I guess it's just the same old story: you are in the opposite house, so we can't be friends... But there is no such thing as an opposite house", she told Imara. "It is true that they may portray the most important aspects of your personality, but that doesn't mean you can't befriend a person who is different from you."  
  
Imara was baffled by this all-new information. She glanced at Aaron, but he just looked as disturbed as usual.  
  
"So..." she trailed off. "We're taking a personality quiz?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, you are" León nodded knowingly. "It's a really long one. I hope you brought some ink."  
  
"We-we won't take a quiz" Helga corrected. "The sorting is done by the Sorting hat. You just have to put it on, and after a while, it announces your house for everyone to hear."  
  
"Give me a break". Imara rubbed her furrowed brow in a pensive way. "I guess I will constantly do what others do at the school".  
  
"That might be a nice plan for a start", Helga concluded.  
  
They shared the compartment for a couple hours more. Imara couldn't help but wonder... what house would he be in? Would she see him in the course of the year? It would probably feel uncomfortable, and she didn't want to throw a fit a him - their relationship did not concern anyone at all. After a while of speaking - or more like León bragging about how hard the classes were and how they could not retake a course if they failed, Aaron quietly unwrapped the Chocolate Frog Imara gave him earlier. He looked horrified about the fact that the sweet was moving as if it was alive, but Helga made him know they didn't feel pain at all. He reluctantly ate it, visibly ashamed of eating in public, but he probably was just as hungry as Imara was since time had passed. He let them see he got a Famous Witches and Wizards card of a magical creatures researcher named Ishtar Argall, and put it in his pocket. Apparently, he had never seen a moving picture before, and he seemed curious about it.  
  
"One day, when you can articulate more than three words altogether, you should tell us how you found out you were a wizard", León said.  
  
"So you are a muggle born", Helga questioned carefully. Aaron just nodded quickly and looked at León.  
  
"Yeah, that'll get you in more trouble than it already has. I'm telling you first hand."  
  
"Wait, so is that what they were bothering you about?" Imara asked, assuming it was a bad thing for some.  
  
"Oh, yeah", León went on. "Some wizards can't handle our fabulousness, it seems. They are just jealous, innit?" he lightly elbowed Aaron, who was starting to show even more signs of agitation.  
  
"Can I hit them for you?" Imara suggested, starting to feel angry already. God, and she had promised not to punch many students...  
  
"Yes!" León exclaimed with a smile.  
  
"No", Helga urged in a concerned manner. "You don't want to make enemies on your first day, do you?"  
  
"I don't care. If they are being that prickish on their first day too, I will probably be enemies with them sooner or later."  
  
"Gosh, we have an avenger in the room. I can already see the red and golden scarf on your shoulders."  
  
"The - the what?"  
  
"Each house has its representative colours", Helga pressed on, trying to change the subject in order to keep anyone from starting a fight. "Gryffindor, which is the house León just suggested you will be sorted in, displays the colours red and gold. They are brave and daring."  
  
"Sounds like me" Imara affirmed. "How about the house you're in, León?  
  
"You'll never know." His eyebrows jumping, he got up and slid the door open, adding: "Oh, you guys might want to get changed. I think we are arriving kinda soonish."  
  
Exchanging looks, the three of them stood up and took off their jackets and coats. Half-heartedly, Imara folded her enormous, wool sweater and pulled on her black robe. It looked kind of cool, but she knew it wouldn't feel good to run or jump in those. But then again, she wouldn't be running and playing in the forests and fields like she used to. Aaron, who was wearing an all-black set of clothes, looked even paler in the robe. On the other hand, Helga seemed as if she had been born to wear the school uniform. They nodded to each other and went out of the compartment at once.  
  
The corridor was stuffed. Everyone was trying to move at the same time, and it felt like the train was not big enough to carry those many students. Most of the younger ones looked nervous, and were trying to figure out where to go or what to do. Just like them.  
  
"Are you all wearing your robes?", an older girl was asking out loud. "We will be arriving soon, so leave your luggage on the train - you don't have to carry it."  
  
Imara felt slightly relieved at the news. It wasn't hard for her, bearing her trunk around, but it would have been impossible to make any progress in trying to get off the train if everyone held their luggage. She could feel Aaron's discomfort as they joined the crowd, but it couldn't be helped: there was no other way out. When they managed to arrive to the station, which looked gloomy and archaic, they saw a huge, long bearded man standing above every head who was trying to lead the first year students. By his side, a blonde, long-haired man looked at the older students.  
  
"I'll be taking the older ones to the school, Hagrid", his smooth voice said.  
  
"Sure, sure, please", he replied. Imara was stunned to find that the blonde man's lower body was the one of a horse's. With a gesture, Hagrid waved and addressed them with a roar: "Firs' years! Follow me! Firs' years, c'mon!"  
  
He guided them through a narrow, dark path. Imara could smell the scent of recent rain and wet dirt as they went, and for a moment, she was at ease. It reminded her of the days of summer she happily spent at home, and she cracked a smile.  
  
"We will get sight o' Hogwarts soon!", Hagrid remarked.  
  
The path opened onto open field. A vast, foggy lake skirted an enormous and magnificent looking castle. It had a homely tint to it, and Imara reconsidered the fact that it might be a nice place to live in. Towers and turrets crowned the building, giving it a royal touch. She noticed a fleet of boats sitting still by the shore of the lake.  
  
"C'mon, and remember, no more'n four to a boat!"  
  
Helga was talking to a small group of students; it seemed like they already knew each other. Aaron gave Imara a nervous look, and she nodded at an empty boat, letting him know that he could follow her in. Two girls joined in, and she recognised their voices as the girls who were speaking about weasleys on the train.  
  
"...so full of green people, I swear. How can they come to school without any knowledge on magic?"  
  
Imara decided to brush it off, as a fight on a boat would rather turn to be a disaster, and she didn't mean to catch a cold that fast. Instead, she landed her eyes on Aaron in as much of a tranquil expression she could compose. He was particularly bothered by the other girls' presence, who were now sniggering, and she wished she would have picked a different vessel. Hagrid looked peculiarly funny in such a small boat, though, gliding across the calm waters.  
  
"Oy, do NOT touch the waters!" he exclaimed warningly. "Everyone stand'n the boat!"  
  
They finally reached an underground harbor, and they all started to gather on land. They kept following Hagrid until they got to a huge, oaken door. He turned to gaze upon them and said:  
  
"Everyone here? Hope ye' are all ready."  
  
He knocked three times on the wooden door with one of his enormous fists. A large stone-walled hall welcomed them. Lit with hundreds of torches, it felt warm. A fair haired woman, dull pink robe and clothes on her, inspected them with her dark eyes. She looked gracious, but the way her face glowed was fierce.  
  
"Thank you for bringing the students along, mister Hagrid. I will accompany them from now on."  
  
With a formal gesture, Hagrid bowed his head for a second and left in a rush, jumping on his long legs.  
  
People were chattering while they walked across the hall, but the murmur stopped when they came to a halt. They were now standing in a small chamber off the hall, peeping around in nervousness.  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts", the lady spoke loud and clearly. "I am Professor Cassandra Coutt, and I will be your Deputy Headmistress, during your whole stay in the school, I presume. Before you walk in the Great Hall, which is where you will be having your start-of-term banquet, you will be sorted into one of the four houses of Hogwarts. The Sorting ceremony is a very important event because, while your school term lasts, your house will both be your family and homeplace. You will sleep in your house dormitory every night, and you will mostly spend your free time in your Common Room.  
  
"The four houses are named Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. They all share a great past, and each one of them has its own noble history as well. Any rulebreaking will result in the taking of points of your house, while your achievements and knowledge will assure the earning of them. At the end of the term, the house with the most points will be awarded the House cup, which is a great honor, and comes along with a celebration.  
  
"The Sorting ceremony will take place in front of the whole school, so I would suggest you all straighten yourselves up while you are waiting."  
  
As Professor Coutt left, everyone started talking again. Imara wasn't sure she would feel any embarassed in front of other students, but she didn't feel like she needed any primping anyway. She sensed Aaron by her side, and spotted Helga in the corner of the room by standing on her tiptoes. Many kids were larger than her, but she would probably grow a few inches during her teenhood, since her mother's family was known for being tall:her tangerine hair and thick eyebrows assured that she was part of that family.  
  
The sound of a scream shook her out of her thoughts, and she turned back as others gasped in surprise. A horde of ghostly, chalky people were streaming through the wall.  
  
"Oh, new students! Have a good stay at Hogwarts", said the bulkier of them as he smiled in a heartwarming way. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!"  
  
A taller ghost, long wavy hair resting on her shoulders and caressing her back, floated by him.  
  
"And we have some familiar faces among us. Some of you are the sons and daughters of former Hogwarts students, I reckon."  
  
"The ceremony is about to start", Professor Coutt's voice cut in distinctly. "Now follow me in."  
  
Imara felt a little overwhelmed as she walked in the Great Hall. Its name was fitting: the word great surely described it, since it was probably the biggest enclosure she had ever been in. Hundreds of candles floated in the air, and some torches hung on the walls as well. Four long tables were distributed along the space, and a shortest one stood in the end of the room, empty golden plates and goblets on them. But the thing that drew her attention the most was the black ceiling, covered in glittering stars. She always enjoyed the night sky, and she was glad she was able to see it during dinner and from the inside of a building.  
  
She looked back down again when a weird voice started to chant. Apparently, a hat having a moving mouth and singing was normal amongst wizards in the United Kingdom. For a moment, she pondered over the fact that someone may have been speaking through it. It sang for what it seemed like an eternity, and recited the good and bad traits of every one of the houses. "Well", she thought: "I'm probably not going to get sorted into Ravenclaw nor Slytherin". Hufflepuff may have been a possible outcome, but Gryffindor seemed like the most accurate depiction of her.  
  
The hall bursted in applause as soon as the song ended, and Professor Coutt, a roll of parchment in her hands, spoke out:  
  
"When I call your name, you will seat and put on the hat in order to be sorted. Abbey, Aaron."  
  
Aaron seemed terrified about being the first one to get sorted, but he awkwardly waddled towards the stool, put the hat on and sat down.  
  
Silence was made. Imara wondered if it would take so long for everyone to get sorted. The hat was maybe troubled in making the decision, but after a while, he exclaimed:  
  
"SLYTHERIN!"  
  
He stood up in disturbance, not knowing what to do. One of the tables applauded, and Professor Coutt signaled him to seat with them. Stammering, he got to the greenly adorned table and sat on a chair. Imara recalled that red and gold were the colours of the house Gryffindor, and searched for the table she would probably be sitting at in a matter of minutes.  
  
"I can't believe he has been sorted in Slytherin", a black haired girl said. She was one of the kids Imara had shared her boat with, and she had not stopped complaining ever since they got on the train. Feeling hotness in her temples, she turned to her and bursted:  
  
"What's with him being sorted in that house? As if he couldn't be cunning, or whatever people from that house is."  
  
The black haired girl snorted. "You really don't know a thing about Slytherin, do you?", she inquired. Professor Coutt shushed them, and the girl recomposed herself, adopting her poshy demeanour once again. Imara looked at the front as some other students were being sorted. Coutt gave Imara a menacing glare as she spoke her name out loud, and she was reminded of the fact that her surname started with a B, making her one of the first students to get sorted.  
  
"Bergen, Imara Danzella".  
  
Just as she paced among the crowd, she heard someone comment on how her middle name was just as weird as her first one, but she moved on without caring. She sat on the stool and put the hat on. She nearly bounced off the seat when she heard a voice inside her head.  
  
"Oh, a daughter worthy of her mother. Passionate about life, just as ferocious as she was."  
  
"I'm going nuts, am I not?", she mumbled.  
  
"There is no doubt what house you must be placed in, is there? How about... GRYFFINDOR!"  
  
With the yell of the hat, one of the tables roared in applause. It seemed like they were happy to have a new member, and as she ran to take a seat, she overheard the annoying voice of the dark-haired girl. "I'm amazed she's not a Weasly, but she will fit in well with those looks", she cackled.  
  
She took an empty seat at the table, and she noticed an abundant bulk of hair sitting a few metres away from her.  
  
"I'll never know, huh?", she asked León, who just shrugged slackly.  
  
"Gotta keep up with the mysterious boy cliché."  
  
Some kid named Pete Bizarre was just placed in Ravenclaw, his housemates clapping at this announcement. She just remembered about him, and scrutinied the room in order to find his dark mane. There were so many freckled faces that she gave up on pointing that feature off him, but there was no signal of his presence nevertheless. A boy named Lucian Cox was just placed in Slytherin, and she bit her lip as she thought about how looming and imposing he looked, in opposition to Aaron, who was tensely twitching on his seat.  
  
"Welcome to Gryffindor", a amiably looking brunette on her table began. "My name is Ada. Are you looking for someone?"  
  
"Uh - eh - well, yes, actually", Imara responded. "My name is Imara."  
  
The girl laughed. "Yeah, I heard the hat say your name. So who are you looking for?"  
  
"Don't listen to her", another girl said by her side, this one with pinkish hair. It was such a flashy colour Imara was amazed she hadn't seen her before. "She's just a gossip jerk." The other girl crossed her arms: it actually looked like they were friends.  
  
"Nice piercing", Imara admitted about her septum ring with a smirk. She prefered not to talk about who she was really looking for.  
  
"Thanks", the girl winked at her as Lavanya Kiram was hurrying to seat with her Ravenclaw housemates.  
  
"Malfoy, Scorpius Hyperion."  
  
"Speak of a weird name", Imara thought out loud, pulling a cackle out of the pink-haired teenager. The boy, whose hair reminded her of Aaron's - only longer, sat and was immediatly sorted in Slytherin. He casually walked to his table, his mates obviously whispering about him, and a Gryffindor spoke as well:  
  
"What could you expect?", he said. A few guys laughed, but a short haired girl in front of him didn't seem pleased about his comment.  
  
"When will you be over that rivalry your family has had on his?"  
  
As she spoke, the blue eyed guy's chortles immediatly stopped.  
  
"So many Slytherins already, though", Ada commented, after the overly annoying dark haired girl (whose name was Priscilla Parkinson) was sorted in there as well. "Can a house overflow in people?"  
  
"Well, at least it won't be that cold down their dungeon if they have to be one inch apart from each other", her pierced friend guessed. Imara just felt sorry for Aaron, as he would have to deal with seeing her disgusting face every day. Professor Coutt called a "Potter, Albus Severus", and the boy who was earlier talking about Malfoy being in Slytherin jumped off his chair, earning a few glances in his direction.  
  
"That's my broth- wait, what?", he yelled after Potter was sorted in Slytherin, and his babbling made the pink-haired girl explode in laughter. Coutt stared daggers at him, so he sat back down. Albus Severus took a seat nearby Aaron and Scorpius, and it didn't seem like he was interested in talking to anyone. In fact, he looked way more shy than his older brother, who was now talking big about his family and ranting on the outcome of the sorting. Then, after a couple Ravenclaws sat on their places, it was Helga's turn. As she waited, she appeared rather more excited than usual, but her face beamed as the name "HUFFLEPUFF!" emerged of the hat's mouth. Imara was glad she could be where she wanted, and wondered if uncle Jak would be proud of her for being a Gryffindor. She would definitely have to ask him what house he was in.  
  
She payed attention to the ceremony as Coutt called someone named Rose Weasley. Weasley? Perhaps British wizards wore their spirit animal as a family name. She would check that out later. Rose had been looking in Albus's direction for a while now, but she came back to reality as she sat down on the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Hello!", she greeted Imara. "Thought you were one of my cousins from afar", she admitted with a brief giggle. "I am Rose, aren't you Imara?"  
  
"That's me", Imara nodded. "So you have family here?"  
  
"Yes!", she affirmed. "I have plenty of cousins in the school, and my younger brother Hugo will be probably coming to school in a few years. I expected us all to be in Gryffindor, but my cousin Victoire is a Hufflepuff, and Albus has... just been sorted in Slytherin..."  
  
"Yeah, just saw your other cousin was also puzzled about it. What about him being a Slytherin? I have a friend in there too", she meditated, and felt a bit amazed about calling Aaron her "friend" so early.  
  
"Oh, nothing, nothing...", Rose trailed off, deep in thought. Maybe the rivalry between the Potters and the Malfoys had something to do with it, but even when Cox and Parkinson seemed like potential gits, that Scorpius didn't look like a bad person. He was now shaking hands with Albus, which left an expression of befuddlement in Rose's face.  
  
"Now, if you would please be quiet, Headmistress McGonagall is about to speak", Coutt announced as she sat in the teacher's table.  
  
A tall witch in a beautiful, dark green robe stood up and gestured in gratitude as the murmuring ceased. Her perfectly combed grey hair was up in a chignon, and even though she looked really old, she moved swift and graciously.  
  
"Thank you", she enunciated. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. This school has produced thousands of notable wizards and witches, and now, it is your turn to learn not only in an academic way, but also, on moral and acceptance of others. Lustrums ago, students were placed in their respective houses in order to find in their peers what they could find within themselves, but now, even though houses will never disappear, things have changed. For, when times became darker, we all learned a valuable lesson; and that is, no matter what the differences are between us. What we have in common is what truly weights, and acknowledging the good things we all share and recognizing our dissimilitudes is what makes us valuable human beings. So, we teachers made a series of choices that resulted in a closer union of the students, and unlike in the older days of Hogwarts, you will all share classes with students from every other house. Now, since I can see the boringness dwelling on some of your faces, let the banquet begin.", she concluded.  
  
Just as she finished speaking, everyone cheered, many students already filling their mouths with food. When Imara looked at the dishes on their table, she was baffled to find out they were full with all kind of plates: from roasted chicken accompanied with green pea sauce to capons stuffed with mushrooms and onions. She also noticed an orange drink before her, and when she had a taste of it, she was slightly displeased to find out what it was not orange juice, but pumpkin juice instead.  
  
"So", Rose started off, shoving a spoonful of soup in her mouth. "What class are you looking forward to start?"  
  
"Huh?" Imara mumbled back, her mouth stuffed with fish already. "Oh, I don't know. I didn't really take a close look at the list of subjects, to be honest."  
  
"Didn't you?!" Rose exclaimed in astonishment. "I am already nervous about our classes! I think I might be good at Charms and Transfiguration, but I find Flying and Potions kind of scary, to be honest. I hope I don't mess up, can you imagine what my parents would say if I failed?"  
  
"I - I can't, actually" Imara raised her eyebrows. How could she?  
  
"Are you Irish as well?" the girl went on. "My father has always been a Chudley Cannons supporter. Does your family like Quidditch?"  
  
"Eh - no. Well, I don't know. I have always lived with my uncle Jak, and he's not a great fan, I think."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry", she flatly said with a worried look. "What does he do?"  
  
"He is a dragonologist."  
  
"Is he?!" the pink-haired girl asked in a squeal. "That's so fuc-"  
  
Suddenly, they heard the sound of a gong, sort of. When they turned to see what happened, they saw a Ravenclaw first year burning in ire, a plate that was (formerly) full of purée on top of her head. By the way she was looking at a Hufflepuff - who was now sneaking under the table, it seemed like he was responsible for that.  
  
"No spell practicing before your classes start!" an older student with a badge reprimanded both of them, as the boy's curly hair sprouted from the table, his eyes fixated on the raging girl. One of the teachers, who was wearing a blueish top hat and thousands of necklaces was sniggering quietly at the scene, but Professor Coutt's scowl felt like a flame in the air.  
  
"That's ace, Imara", the pinkhead continued. "What's his name?"  
  
"Trish, he's probably too old for you", Ada pointed out while rolling her eyes.  
  
"You just have a dirty mind, Ada. Well?"  
  
"His name is Jak, and he's not that old, but yeah, he's probably too old for you. He's nearly thirty."  
  
"Shame", Trish shook her head. "But still cool as hell."  
  
Imara found it nice to keep talking about uncle Jak, and Trish seemed sincerely interested in everything she told her about him: the million scars he had all along his arms, how he looked slender and not nearly as strong as he was and how he sometimes brought her scales that the dragons dropped for her to collect. Even though her uncle was a wizard, she was starting to realize how little she knew about the wizarding world, and was eager to find out about their ways. She felt a tingle of disappointment when Rose told her they wouldn't be studying magical creatures until they were in their third year, but she just let it be.  
  
After they finished eating, the Prefects (who were students that had a bit of authority over other students, she found out) gave them their schedules and guided them towards their common rooms. All the kids and teenagers formed a few not-so-straight lines and started marching, and when she saw Aaron's white hair, she smiled at him. He obviously didn't smile back, but he scratched the back of his head and looked down, which sufficed.  
  
A small blast was heard, just like the ones crackers make, and Parkinson screeched in a horrible way that pierced her ears.  
  
"Who was it?" she screamed, rubbing her face as she stopped in the middle of the mob. Big boils broke out all over her face, and Imara didn't allow herself to repress a chortle. Chaos reigned the scene, and Prefects were trying to make students move on.  
  
"I don't know what you expected. You clearly aren't cunning enough as to rant about others without being hexed", a blonde, long haired Slytherin said in disapproval, a boy that looked just like her following up closely.  
  
People laughed and chattered, and the top hat teacher took her along in order to provide her with a healing potion. Imara could have sworn she saw a hint of amusement in her face.  
  
"Wasn't me", said a voice behind her. She turned to see that it was actually León who spoke, hands inside his pockets an unimpressed look plastered on him. Another boy, a Ravenclaw with a shoulder-lengthed hair and plastic frames, shook his head in discontent.  
  
"León, you really shouldn't hex other students. Especially on their first day of school. This may become a rather traumatic experience for her."  
  
"Come on, Donovan. You have heard her, she's an annoying prat. Won't let her bully other kids; we should watch out for the youngsters, shouldn't we?"  
  
Donovan just looked hugely displeased about the situation, but spoke no more of the hexing incident.  
  
"This is Donovan", León went on, addressing Imara for the first time in a while. "He's a know-it-all, but in the good way."  
  
"Is there a bad way?" Donovan asked with a small smirk.  
  
"If you ever have any doubt about literally anything, just come up for him. He will be delighted to help."  
  
"I certainly will", he admitted happily. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"Imara", she let him know as they difficultly shook their hands in the middle of the crowd.  
  
"Oh, you're not British either, are you?"  
  
"Yeah, that's what I was wondering earlier, since she said so. Welcome to the foreigner-weirdos club."  
  
"Uh, thanks, I guess. I was raised in Norway, but my uncle's family was Irish. Don't know much" a thing, she thought to herself, "about my father, but I guess he was Norwegian."  
  
"Bergen", a voice called out, cutting her off. Imara turned back and saw Professor Coutt gesturing at her, so she shrugged at her new friends and walked out of the multitude.  
  
"Being scolded on the first day, aren't we?" León asked. "That's my girl!"  
  
Imara just frowned upon him, but he was just carelessly waving at her, not even looking back.  
  
"Call us sometime!" he ended in a cheerful tone.  
  
She approached the Professor, confounded about the fact that she would have to talk to an adult in private on her very first day of school. Coutt gave her a knowing look, and spoke:  
  
"You must be wondering where Doran is."  
  
"I - I do, yeah", she agreed with her. The Professor avoided her eyes for a second, as if she was bugged by the truth, but looked back at her, a few strands of her light hair falling before her eye.  
  
"He is not in the same house as you", she finally said, pulling her hair behind her ear again and adjusting her pointy, lavender hat. "But you will eventually see him, I reckon."  
  
"Oh, it's alright", she shifted nervously. She was not that eager to see him, but a simple greeting would have been nice, to be honest. But then again, they had not spoken much during their lives.  
  
"Well", Coutt began again, after an awkward silence. "Even though I'm not the head of your house, let me know if you need anything from me. And by the way, that would be your Herbology teacher - Professor Neville Longbottom.  
  
"Oh - thank you. I will tell you if anything."  
  
"Go follow your housemates before they leave without you, or you will rather find trouble in guessing the Common Room's password."  
  
A password? Weird.  
  
"Thanks, Professor". Imara scurried away. She had to run a little in order to reach the line her housemates were forming. They climbed what it felt like a thousand staircases, and Imara was curious about where the other houses' Common Rooms were. As if she read her mind, another first year spoke:  
  
"I heard the Hufflepuffs sleep nearby the kitchens. How nice can that be - to sneak out and get some free food anytime?"  
  
"Yeah, and Slytherins live down in the dungeons", an older student affirmed.  
  
They came to a halt. One of the Prefects explained that the password for opening the Common Room's entrance did change from time to time, so they would have to check the board inside or find a Prefect in case they forgot what the words were. When he emitted the current password ("Quo vadis"), a portrait of a woman in a pink dress swung open, a round hole behind it. When Imara scrambled through, she was received by a cozy, warm room in dark red and brown decor. There were a bunch of people gathering around and on the armchairs, a big couch among them and in front of a fire. León was sitting there, with somewhat of a cable in his ears. Imara had once seen a guy wearing those down the streets of a city, but never knew what it was about.  
  
A female prefect directed all of the girls to their dormitory, as she informed them that the boys' was right in front of theirs. She wondered why boys and girls were split in two dormitories, but also decided it was a good time for going to bed, and she guessed her luggage would already be in the room, waiting for her. She was not feeling sleepy at all, but there was not much she could do before bedtime since she was used to playing with Máni in the forest surrounding her house by that time of the day, and the owl had not arrived to Hogwarts yet. Rose Weasley, who picked the bed next to hers, pulled a book out of her trunk and started to read, pajamas on already. Maybe she would later pick an interesting book; she had never been an avid reader, but it sure seemed like a plan.  
  
After she changed her clothes, she pulled the sheets and covered herself with them. "Have a good night", she heard Rose say in a friendly way.  
  
"Oh - you too, Rose".  
  
She looked through one of the big windows of the room. The night sky was starry, and not as clouded as she expected of the United Kingdom. Where actually was the castle placed? Was it England? They had been on the train for a few hours, so maybe it was not. Could be Scotland, since she guessed the direction the express took by the position of the Sun.  
  
She didn't know how, but suddenly, it was pitch-dark. It was a New moon night, she knew that, but that didn't explain the abrupt, total lack of light. She wasn't lying on her bed anymore, and her body felt relaxed, as if the dark was not threatening at all.  
  
As soon as she saw something, she wished she hadn't thought that.  
  
A ray of light darted, just like a shooting star would, only way closer than that. She saw it with her peripheral vision, and tried to follow it to find out that it was gone. Seconds passed as she turned both sides, and finally, she caught sight of it again. A pair of glowing eyes stared at her, just like a hunter would look at its prey, and for the first time in years, she felt truly scared. In a heartbeat, the eyes were gone, and she was looking at the velvet curtains that hung up her bed. In a stupor, she realized she had fallen asleep: that was for sure.  
  
But the dream had felt so real...


	2. First things go first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First actual day of school for Imara!

Still drowsy, Imara walked sloppily down the stairs as she rubbed her eyes. She hadn't got much sleep that night, and getting up that early in the morning was not making things any better. As a child, she had not found waking up in the morning a knotty problem, but things changed as she grew older, turning her into more of a nocturnal being. But it wasn't easy to oversleep in Hogwarts; having to do her duty as a student and every other girl in her room being a noisy mess at seven o'clock sure resulted in anyone being shaken out of their dreams.

Speaking of dreams... what had she dreamt of last night? All she remembered was some kind apprehension as her sleep was interrupted in the middle of the night, but she couldn't recall what it all was about. As she descended, she looked out of one of the tall glass windows, her eyes narrowing at the amount of light coming through. In the distance, a couple of diversely coloured towers raised above some kind of closed field, and a hut rested on the grounds further away. To her surprise, there was an actual forest behind it all; except, unlike those she was used to, it looked gloomy and sinister. She felt a shiver down her spine as mixed feelings met inside her head.

By following two Ravenclaw first years - who were arguing about how one could produce a ghost after their decease, she entered the Great Hall that was bursting in life. Breakfast with uncle Jak had always been a quiet and enjoyable event, but sure she could get used to the warmth of kids and teachers eating together. She took a seat in the Gryffindor table and stuffed her mouth with chocolate pudding.

"Lovely", a voice said next to her. León was spreading strawberry jam all over a piece of bread, and Donovan was having some milk by her other side, an enormous book open in front of him. His glasses seemed like they were about to fall down his nose, but he looked just fine with it.

"What?" she asked back, grabbing some brioche. "Can't eat with the older guys?"

"Oh, sure you can", the slender teen said. "Just found it funny how much of a honey bunny you look like, and how you eat like a true pig."

"Look away then" she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Are you excited about your first day?", Donovan questioned with a smile, his eyes finally away from his book. "I have great memories of my first day in Hogwarts."

León broke up in laughter as he grabbed his stomach with both his hands. "Yeah, Don, I do too."

As Donovan frowned at him, Imara wondered what would have happened on their first day, but felt a bit overwhelmed about the fact she had no idea what class she had to go to.

"You haven't checked your schedule yet?" Donovan snapped when she pulled her schedule out of her bag, pushing his glasses back at place with one finger.

"Yeah, just - just trying to remember - oh, look", she finally found out as her eyes fell on the Friday block. "We have Transfiguration first. Never tried magic like that... do you think I'll be able to NOT mess it up in an awful way?"

"You'll be fine", Donovan reassured. Before he was done speaking, a massive flapping of wings dragged them out of their conversation. Looking up around, Imara was glad to notice that Máni was flying among what looked like hundreds of owls, happily beating her wings and carrying an envelope in her beak. She landed on her shoulder, and Imara took advantage of their current closeness to gently pet her head.

"Whoa", León blurted. "What on Earth is that?"

"Uh - it's a northern hawk-owl", she answered, unfolding the piece of parchment that Máni delivered to her. "It's not that weird in Norway."

"Looks kinda different from the owls I'm used to seeing in here, but it's cool" he said, caressing Máni with caution. "Still not cooler than Critter, but..."

"Critter?" she asked, her eyes on the piece of paper in front of her:

_Dear Imara,_

_I am aware that not much has passed since you arrived to school, but I realized that you would want to have Máni at hand - trust me, the school's owls are slower than a snail._

_How are you doing? I expect everything to be well. Today, we got to meet Auðumbla, a female Swedish Short-Snout. She's actually small for a pregnant dragon; but we expect her to give birth soon. We found her in a terrible state after fighting another creature, who was presumably invading her space. As you can imagine, pregnant dragons don't like anyone to approach them, but she couldn't do much since multiple penetrating wounds impeded her from even moving. A clawed and long-teethed dragon must have hurt her, we believe - couldn't have been a Norwegian Ridgeback since we have not found any traces of venom anywhere._

_Anyway, I will let you know about her evolution! She will probably heal in no time to, at least, walking on her limbs again. She won't be flying for a while, but step by step, we will eventually get there._

_Hope it's alright! Say hello to Mrs McGonagall on my part if you get detention this early._

_Uncle Jak_

"- and I don't know why anyone would ask anything if they are planning to read a letter right after they speak."

"Oh" Imara gasped, folding the letter and putting it in her pocket. "I'm sorry, my uncle is actually more important to me than you are."

"You hurt my feelings", León confessed, right hand on his chest.

"We should go to class", Donovan suggested, getting up from his chair and putting his gigantic book back inside his bag. It didn't actually look like the book would fit in there, but it just slipped in as if the bag was larger and longer than it seemed.

"Oh, uh". Imara was looking for a suitable classmate (who could guide her all the way to the Transfigurations classroom) as she bumped into another mass of reddish hair.

"Imara!", Rose called, pointing at a few first years who were lining up, exiting the Great Hall already. "I was looking for you, the Prefects are taking us to our classes on our first week of the term. Are you group B?"

Whatever that was, she found the words "Group B" on top of her schedule, so she energically nodded back at Rose.

"Let's go follow them then; I really don't want to be late to Transfiguration."

"Yeah, me neither", she admitted, looking back to León and Donovan as she walked along with Rose.

"And yet again, you didn't get to seat by your platonic partner", León sighed. Donovan bumped him with his shoulder, which caused the frizzy haired boy to laugh out loud. Imara wondered who they would be referring to, but she simply walked on. Even though she had never been a fan of soapy stories, she could do one during her stay in school.

People were walking everywhere, taking several different directions as they gathered in the stone corridors. The top hat teacher she discovered sniggering during the start-of-term banquet was nodding to a few Slytherins as they complained about something - she couldn't hear what, although the schedules in their hands gave her an idea of it. A female Hufflepuff prefect was guiding the group B students towards their classroom. Crossing a long, high placed bridge, she heard Parkinson's voice, and felt tired of going to school already.

"I once managed to transfigurate a strand of hair into a golden needle when I was just a kid!", she announced, a blonde Slytherin girl by her side. Since the other one didn't react much, Imara perceived a flash of disappointment in Priscilla's face.

When they arrived to class, they all randomly sat in tables of two. As Rose saw the arrangement of their seats, she looked at Imara and sat down. Imara had already left her pack on the table and was sitting by her side, but as soon as she saw Aaron, who was troubled looking for a partner, she immediatly retracted.

"I'm sorry", she honestly told Rose. "I can't leave Aaron alone."

"Oh", Rose spoke, looking at the rest of the class. "It's... okay."

Getting up from her place, Imara walked up to him. He was paler than usual, but when he saw her nearby, he relaxed instantly. Or just as much as he was able to.

"Let's sit together, yes?" Imara asked him, signaling the chair next to hers.

When all of the students were sitting in their respective places, a beautiful rosy bird alighted on the teacher's table. Its irises were fair as white, and its graceful body displayed touches of blue and black amongst the pinky coloured feathers that covered it. Suddenly, it jumped off the desk and morphed into an imponent looking woman: the one they knew to be Professor Coutt.

"Welcome" she started, ignoring the kid's gasps and oohs. "And good morning, young students. My name, as you might know, is Cassandra Coutt: Deputy Headmaster and Transfiguration teacher. You know me, but I know you all as well, and I will not tolerate any kind of trespassing of the behaviour and cohabitation rules in my class. Please, respect each other, since you still have a long way to go together", she formally recited, putting some small glasses on. With a gesture of her wand, a chalk lifted and started writing on the board at the end of the room. "Transfiguration is one of the most complex, dangerous magic you will get to learn in Hogwarts. Please, start taking notes, or else you will find it troublesome to pass this subject."

As if they were dragged back to reality, everyone started pulling their quills and parchment out, and started noting down what the board read. It was a weird looking alphabet, Imara thought to herself, but Norwegian alphabet felt way more complicated than this one, so maybe she wouldn't find any trouble in learning this one. But then, when would they start practicing magic in their classes? Was the first year at Hogwarts a merely theoric course?

Their hands and wrists hurt by the time they walked out of the room. The ring of the bell had been comforting for some, whose arms were already numb, and they grazed at each other in a nervous manner. Another Prefect was standing at the entrance door, waiting for them to follow him to their next classroom.

"What do we have now?", Imara asked out loud, searching for her own schedule inside her untidy bag.

"Defence Against the Dark Arts", a Ravenclaw girl spoke back. Imara thought her to be named Lavanya, but since she didn't mean to screw it up, she said nothing but "thanks". It wasn't the girl's fault that she hadn't managed to memorise her name: in fact, she looked super nice. It was more about Imara being a bloody mess of a person that stopped her from knowing anyone else than those who actually spoke to her on their own accord... and Aaron, of course. Another Ravenclaw girl groaned, this one looking way paler than the other, a slightly convex nose and bushy eyebrows on her face.

"I've heard about this woman", she complained. "She worked with my father a few years ago, and he was disconcerted about her becoming a teacher at Hogwarts."

"So? How is she?", a short Gryffindor boy with glasses questioned.

"She was one of the pickiest, pettiest people he had ever met."

"Well that sounds cheering", Imara acknowledged, rubbing her forefront in tiredness.

"You look so dead sleepy, are you alright?", the Gryffindor kid went on. She hadn't really payed attention to this person yet, and she realised how oblivious she was to her classmates around her, or any schoolmate for that matter. His face looked familiar to her, though. Maybe she had seen him at the Diagon Alley the day she went there in order to buy her supplies.

"Uh, I'm alright. I was nervous last night, so I couldn't sleep well."

"Oh, same here", he grinned. She smiled back, but felt a little weirded out about the whole situation. Meeting people was not one of her strong points, but she had to get used to it in order to fit in. As they arrived to their next class, the Prefect opened the door. Everyone fell silent at the sight of the inside of it.

It was a spacious place, or at least, that was her guess since it was darker than a moonless night in there. Every window was covered with tupid, dark maroon curtains, and a strong scent of wax and incense filled their lungs as they walked in. The only source of light was a weird arrangement of candles that sat here and there, and Imara wondered how they would be able to write or even see anything in such an eerie atmosphere. She got chills over something, but she couldn't figure out what.

The sound of heels started echoing against the walls, piercing their heads as it went. Delicately descending a spiral staircase at the front, a tall, wan woman with black as coal upswept hair observed them gravely. She wore robes of a faint wine colour, combined with some old, black victorian heeled boots. A disturbing look on her eyes, she positioned herself before the board and crossed her hands in front of her.

"My name is Lady Morgan. There's no need to speak about my first name. I will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. There will be no speaking nor motioning during my class, and if you came here expecting to play tag with imps and hinkypunks, you can gather your belongings up and leave now."

"Can you behave for once, please?", a dirty blonde Hufflepuff with a round face whispered to his friend, Helga visibly biting her lip by his side. Lady Morgan gave them the coldest glare Imara had seen in her life, and for a moment, she felt like she would have to write a nice eulogy for them.

The teacher then turned back, some students peeping at each other in befuddlement. A list of notes on small, dangerous creatures appeared on the blackboard, erasing themselves so fast not even Rose was able to keep up with the pace. And, to make matters even worse, it was a double class that day.

"It's our first day of school and I want to die already. Give me sweet, sweet death", Imara wished during lunch, León by her side. She expected Rose to scowl at her, but the Weasley was too busy panicking over the amount of homework Lady Morgan gave them. A Gryffindor first year, who was in group A, kept her eyes wide open at the sight of Rose's notes. She was visibly worried about what she would have to face sooner or later in her Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

"Oh, who did you have class with?", León raised his eyebrows.

"Lady -" she lowered her tone in fear as she went on: "Lady Morgan."

"What, that wintry witch over there?", he signaled his head in the teacher's direction. Imara nodded, her sides beating so hard she felt they would explode, and she didn't mean to ruin everybody's meal.

"Is every class going to be this long, hard and boring?"

"I don't think so", León ventured, his eyes still on the darkly dressed woman. "She is a new sign up, you know. We didn't have class with her last year."

"How so?" the freckled girl furrowed her brows at him.

"Well, they say, during Harry Potter's", the name of her uncle made Rose switch her attention from her book to León, "stay at Hogwarts, there was a curse on the Defence post. Its teacher kept changing; they had different and different teachers every year, and people never figured out why."

"You mean you think the curse has been brought back on that post?", Imara asked with suspicion.

"I mean, I don't want to scare you guys, but yeah."

"Oh, come on", Trish finally spoke out, her pink hair wildly dancing on the back of her head. "Don't you frighten them. Just because we got a new teacher doesn't mean there's a curse going on in the back of all of this."

"Aren't you concerned about this anathema, Patricia?", León wiggled his fingers at her, as if mentally hexing her. She quickly bit the air in his direction, making him move his hands away, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Nothing to worry about", she finished off.

"But have you had different teachers during these years?", Rose inquired, her face a bit tense over the matter.

"We have", León confirmed under his breath, making her slightly shift in concern.

"Whatever", Imara retorted, shaking her head. "It doesn't mean things are going to go bad at school. I mean, it's not good for those teachers, but if you guys have had so many different Defence professors, bad things should have happened already. Right?"

Everyone looked at separate directions, except for Trish, who was undisturbedly eating her vegetable cream.

"At least, half of the day is over by now", Imara scratched the back of her neck, checking her schedule once again. "We have Potions now, then Flight lessons, and - oh yeah, Astronomy by midnight."

How she would keep herself awake until that time of the day, it was a mystery.

To her relief, Potions class had a reputation on being fun and nice. Ada told her about how entertaining Professor Ghislaine was, even though León tried to alert them about the horrid dangers on potion brewing. Trish kept rolling her eyes at his warnings, but eventually decided to let him be.

"It's so cold down here in the dungeons!", Rose exclaimed as they walked down the stairs, rubbing her hands together. Lucky them, they had a new Prefect to follow on their way to class. "I don't know how you manage to live in here", she told her cousin in obvious concern.

"I think it's just fine", Imara reacted.

"That's because you're Norwegian", Rose frowned back at her. "Must be freezing in there as well."

"Well, never had much trouble with cold."

"THE COLD NEVER BOTHERED HER ANWYAY", a Hufflepuff sang out loud with his arms wide open, earning a few glances in his direction. Imara recognised him as the guy who some dirty-blonde boy tried to shush during Defence Against the Dark Arts. Dozens of curls swung on top of his head as he weirdly wiggled his body in a way you could barely call dancing. Priscilla shook her head in disgust.

"Can't keep their muggle junk to themselves, apparently", she said on a low tone. Her blonde, female Slytherin mate seemed just unfazed, and she looked back at Aaron and Malfoy, who were walking right behind them. Imara knew she was not the only one who really wished Parkinson got herself expelled real soon.

The atmosphere in Potions sure felt a lot better than the one they had to undergo during Defence Against the Darks Arts. A wave of heat hit them when the doors swung open, colorful vapours swelling in the air as they overflowed out. Imara felt welcomed as she entered the place, gandering around in amaze. Hundreds of jars were set all over the place: they were filled with all kind of liquids of all the hues she could imagine, and displayed herbs and stones yet unknown to her. She observed the fact that some crooked, fragile looking shelves were bearing it all with no apparent difficulty.

Since the only seating furniture in the room was composed by a set of stools that laid on a corner, they just stood up in search of the professor, who was not there yet. A few minutes passed by, as they pulled their books out and placed them on the large tables in the centre. Imara remembered all the things Ada told her about Professor Ghislaine and her unusual ways, and looked around to find out if anyone had a clue what was happening.

"Maybe she is just late", Rose guessed.

"No, I don't think so. Second years have just had class with her, how could she be late for this shift?", Priscilla snorted.

Imara fixed her eyes on Scorpius, since his eyes were narrowed in suspicion. He was scrutinising the desk at the front, and Imara noticed there was a bunch of cherries on it. Suddenly, the pointy-nosed boy grabbed his wand and intoned:

"Fumos."

A dark mass of smoke came out of the point of his wand, forming a small cloud around the teacher's desk. A figure stood in the middle of the fume, behind the table, and started clapping with vehemence.

"Fantastic!", a voice blurted out. "Just great. I thought maybe, and only maybe, some clever student would identify cherries as the most important ingredient in an Invisibility Potion, and there you go! Sorry I set you all up, but everyone starts paying attention after the invisibility trick. Oh, and I would give you house points, but they might label me as an opportunist, since you're in my house and all."

The smoke started to fade out, a dark-skinned woman emerging from it. Black, curly hair with a mind of its own sprouted from her head, a pale blue hat on top of it. She wore some small and round teal tinted glasses in front of her black eyes, a silver ring that circled one of the wings of her nose and a long embroidered purple robe over her arms and back.

"Now that the tether has broke, let me get started. Grab your pewter cauldrons and turn to page five if you want to get this correctly. I'm afraid we won't be learning how to brew an Invisibility Potion, since I don't want any of you to be expelled on your first year, so maybe your mischievous selves can wait until fourth year and start concocting a cure for boils. Trust me: this is basic when it comes to potion making. Handy in case something goes wrong!"

"Her accent is so odd", Parkinson whispered as they all went to check the cupboards at the sides of the room.

"Oh, and before you get started, even though these tables are bigger than a bed, as you may have noticed, you will have to pair up and work together. You will be using only one cauldron per pair for now - but that might change in the future, so don't rely on your partner doing the whole job for you! Choose wisely: you will keep the same mate for the whole year."

That changed things, Imara thought as everyone was scrambling to find their perfect match-up. Rose and Albus were trying to gather all the supplies they needed and were talking about some of their cousins; Helga was politely coming to terms with a friend of hers as they tried to decide who would do what, and to her surprise, Aaron was calmly following the other Slytherin girl around. Maybe he had met her during lunch, she guessed. In the middle of the stir, Priscilla was scanning the room and seemed to stop at the sight of... Imara?

Someone grabbed her arm, and she turned back with a scary jump. She didn't expect anyone to ask her to pair up, and she definitely didn't expect that person to be Malfoy.

"I don't want to be with Parkinson", he muttered, lowering his head so the Slytherin couldn't tell what he was saying. "Can you be my partner?"

Imara blinked twice and decided it was a good idea. It was better than being in the company of Priscilla, and the other person left was a Ravenclaw she knew nothing about. Besides, Malfoy would clearly do better in Potions than her, and maybe she could learn a thing or two from him, since she was completely lost.

"Sure, sounds like a plan", she answered as she walked along with him to their table.

It turned out that Imara was a plain disaster when it came to potion making; she was lucky to have Scorpius by her side, even though he kept closing his eyes and shaking his head in discontent at her poor choices and lack of skill. She felt slightly irritated by it, but decided to dismiss the feeling considering they would have to be together for the rest of the course. She was unsuccessfully trying to reduce a ginger root to powder when something popped out from under her desk. With a gasp, Malfoy nearly dropped his book and gaped at the snake that was now on the table and snuggling up to the mortar Imara had been using just now.

"Oh!", Professor Ghislaine exclaimed, approaching them in a curious manner. "Seems like Koulèv likes you! She's a nosy cottonmouth, this one, so she might meddle with your methods of brewing."

It actually looked like that snake enjoyed her company. When Imara gave it a pat on the head, it seemed to be smiling with its eyes... sort of. Or perhaps, it was its way of saying "I'm measuring your size to verify if you fit in my stomach." Funnily enough, Koulèv kept nodding her head in the right order towards the ingredients she needed to use, and resulted to be more helpful than Scorpius, who was blending a bunch of herbs, or the Professor, who was roaming here and there to check on everyone's cauldron. She seemed glad that her snake was aiding her students, since she just gave them a brief look followed by a nod.

Suddenly, a blast made her remember that she was in a dangerous class. A black smoke filled the room again, and a few panicked. Chaos started dissipating as Ghislaine removed part of the smoke, her wand up high. Imara looked around in disconcert until she noticed a Hufflepuff flailing around. He was the source of the ridiculously high-pitched screeches she had been hearing, and he was the same kid that danced and sang something about cold before they entered the class.

"Robert!", his partner cried. "I told you not to add pepper root..."

Robert's fabulous curls had been reduced to ashes, but it didn't really seem like he had been terribly burnt. There still were a couple blisters on his face though, and they didn't look well at all.

"Kids, please!", the teacher opened her arms in a warning manner. "Take a raincheck before you mix your ingredients. Can you take him to the hospital wing? No offense, but I wouldn't use the first potion you brew in this class to heal a wounded student."

"S-sure", the other Hufflepuff confirmed, as he yanked his friend's shoulder and scurried out of the room.

The rest of the class went actually nice, if compared to the recent events concerning that Robert kid. No one else got second-degree burns, and two of them actually got their potions to look and smell like the one Professor Ghislaine brewed in a matter of minutes, Scorpius being one of them. Imara could feel the stare of Priscilla stabbing her in the head, but it didn't matter: she had managed to positively assist in a potion making, and eventually, she might be able to brew one herself...

"Nice job, everyone! Or at least, everyone who hasn't ended in the hospital wing. Malfey, Keram. I can now award you both 10 points for each of your houses! Weasely, you nearly got it", the teacher announced. Scorpius cringed at the way she mispronounced his name, and Imara could barely keep a giggle to herself.

"She seems nice for the head of Slytherin", Malfoy mumbled in a tone so low Imara had to make an effort to hear, when they were picking up their belongings. Imara frowned and turned to give him a scowl.

"Aren't you a Slytherin?", she asked him, her brow furrowed in a mix of confusion and temper.

"Yes, I am", he spun around to face her, his grey eyes evading hers in meditation. "That's why I know what it's like in that house. Most of my family went to Slytherin, and, like... nevermind", he finally sighed, looking thoughtful.

What was with that house? What about Slytherin made everyone so uncomfortable? Not only members of other houses, but its inmates were not positive about it either. She didn't want to think ill of other students, but maybe they were all right and Aaron was the exception in his whole house. She turned her eyes upon the diffident boy as his Slytherin mate left without a word, her wavy hair bouncing against her back at each step. Uncle Jak didn't seem restless about what house she would get sorted in, since he hadn't even asked her on the letter she got that morning, and his apparent lack of prejudiced beliefs relieved her for a moment. And Malfoy - well, he was silent most of the time, but he had been avoiding Parkinson earlier, and that might have meant something good.

At least, one thing everyone agreed about: that Parkinson girl was a shallow-brained bully.

Speak of the devil, as they all exited the class and waited for a Prefect to show up, she heard her complaining about their Professor bringing a snake to their class, but the blonde Slytherin girl told her they would have to face worse beasts in third course. Imara felt slightly stressed-out by the fact that the day wasn't over yet: it felt like she had been in school for a whole year. Despite her vigour, she wanted to curl up in bed, as long as no monster nightmares chased her during her sleep as it happened last night.

Flight lessons were to start, and she had literally no idea on what it would be like. She had never used a broomstick; in fact, she had never even touched one. Even though uncle Jak was permissive in most things, he never allowed Imara to ride his Flyte and Barker, whatever model it was. All she knew was students kept talking about what they called Quidditch, which they described as "a very, very dangerous wizard sport." Even though she was not interested in playing it, she certainly wanted to witness a game or two. The riskiness in it didn't make it any less appealing, so she thought she would give it a go in the future. Maybe when she learnt how to fly.

Madame Hooch was amazing, in Imara's eyes. Her physical resemblance to a hawk was captivating: her yellow eyes and short, spiky hair made sure of that. Her motions were resolute, and she spoke loud and clear. Imara was too busy scrutinizing her features when she realised everyone was already trying to lift their broomsticks up. Shaking her head back to real life, she followed her mates' example and opened her hand above the broomstick that lied by her side.

"Up!", she exclaimed. She wasn't surprised to see her broomstick bounce in hesitation, but her brow creased at the thought that she wasn't good enough to make it jump. Her jaw clenched, she looked around. Scorpius was grabbing his broomstick steadily, as did William (the short Gryffindor boy with glasses) and a bulky Hufflepuff with brown hair. After a few attempts, Rose achieved what they all were trying, a small smile of content on her lips. Helga looked frankly distressed about not lifting the broom that laid lazily on the floor, as if it was asleep. _Asleep_ , Imara thought.

_Wake up, you loaf._

She wasn't actually sure if her thoughts made the broomstick wake up in a frenzy or what, but it jolted upwards like a scared cat would. That'll do, she concluded with a nod, firmly grabbing it.

When all of the students had managed to get a hold of their broomsticks (Helga and a Ravenclaw looked truly careworn about how long it took for theirs to jump), Professor Hooch took her whistle and spoke again:

"Now. Even though some of you need a hand in your up call, you will all be mounting your broomsticks. Be careful, or you'll slide down and drop to the ground. We won't be flying any higher than three feet upwards, but a fall while flying up high could be deadly. When I blow the whistle, I want each one of you to kick off the ground hard. I want you to keep your feet off the floor, hover for a moment, then touch back down. On my signal."

The whistle cut the air in half. Imara stomped against the floor with a hard knock, her hands closed tight around the stick. She nearly fell off as the broom seemed to come to life in a slightly circular movement, elevating her off the ground. Her heart jumped in excitement, and a strange heat pumped all across her chest and limbs. The sensation of her moving without the need of keeping her feet on the ground made her feel... homesick?

A thud was heard, and Imara bent her broomstick over to land, looking for the source of the sound. The curly haired Hufflepuff - whose name, she discovered, was Robert Johnson, was lying on the floor, and only then Imara noticed his locks had magically grown back to normal. While she approached him, just like every other kid did, she distinguished the weirdness in his position: his limbs were scattered all around, and one of his legs was contorted in a way that was, simply, not possible.

Knees weren't designed to be bent like that, she assumed with a wince.

"What happened?", she asked, as Madame Hooch (who now looked like she was about to jump off her skin) took him to the hospital wing. Again.

"His broomstick floated too high... and, like, he was suspended downwards in the air for a few seconds", Lavanya communicated, a trace of amusement in her tone.

"How many times is this kid going to visit the hospital wing for his first day?", Parkinson asked in mockery. "I bet he can break a record."

Even though her words were meant to be harsh, she had a point. Imara would be surprised if Johnson made it through the whole year without being hospitalized or killed by his own hand. His friend shook his head in worry, and Helga patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Fourier. He will be fine."

"Hey!", the sarcastic, redhaired Ravenclaw yelped. "Don't you dare do that."

Her warning was addressed to the blonde Slytherin girl, who was now trying to rise her broomstick from the floor again.

"Up", she said. Maybe she was the one Madame Hooch was referring to when she said some of them needed a hand in lifting their brooms off the floor.

"Stop it!", the brown haired Hufflepuff commanded. "Hooch told us not to use our broomsticks!"

"Up", she repeated once again. Except, this time, her broom flew backwards, all the way to the forest Imara saw through the window that morning. Being in the presence of its tall, dark trees and crooked branches was even more overwhelming than she would have expected. A shiver ran down her spine.

The Slytherin casually walked following the direction her broomstick had taken, and this time, the Hufflepuff got in the middle of her way, his arms open. Her face was unreadable, but in exchange, the boy's expression screamed worry.

"Paula, don't do it. It's dangerous to go in there."

They all fell silent. Not even the Ravenclaw spoke this time; things were as tense as they could get. Unexpectedly enough, the Slytherin (her eyes fixated on her interlocutor) pulled her wand out of her pocket, and an unisonous gasp escaped their mouths. He gaped back at her, incredulous about how the events had unfolded this far.

"Taran-"

"Expelliarmus!", William exclaimed.

Paula's wand flew off her hands. The Hufflepuff, brown haired boy sat down in surprise: he obviously hadn't been expecting anyone to point their wands at him for doing the right thing. There was no sign of a reaction in her face as she picked her wand up, but most of the students were now cheering at William, who became the centre of attention in a matter of seconds.

"How did you do that?", Rose asked in excitement.

"I - I don't know, they taught me how to do this during the holidays."

"I thought he was a muggleborn", Priscilla muttered with crossed arms.

For a second, Imara was about to approach them, but her focus switched back to the forest, as Paula was nowhere to be seen. She wondered how long it would take for the professor to come back to them, but everything had happened so fast she realised it would take a couple more minutes for her to be there. A sudden urge of walking in the twisted forest grew hot in her heart. Her feet moved without a thought, but the moment she was about to increase her speed, something clutched her sleeve. She turned to face a remarkably worried Aaron, whose grasp did not falter when their eyes met.

"D - don't walk in there", he stuttered.

She felt dizzy. What was she thinking? Sure she was the adventurous kind, but simply walking through a forest she knew nothing about on her first day of school was beyond stupid, especially when professors and students insisted on how dangerous it was to enter it. The mass of trees around her house in Norway looked way less scary, as light came through its leaves and branches, but this one... this one was dense and murky. The thought of being lost in it was definitely not a nice one.

Yet she had wanted to walk in it so bad.

Her trail of thought was interrupted as a deep voice spoke to them.

"Children, children! Wha's goin' on in 'ere?" 

The enormous, hairy man who had guided them towards the castle hurried to near them, a pair of shears in his large hands. Dozens of leaves covered his beard and clothes; but despite how comical it might have been, he stood his ground, his face dead serious. Imara looked back at the forest, and to her surprise, Paula was crossing the last rows of trees in it, her right fist clenched around the broomstick that had flown away. Hagrid's eyes widened at the sight of her, and he scurried towards her position. 

"Wha' happen'd?", he asked them all. The kids exchanged looks as they wondered who would be the one to speak up. Parkinson bit her lip, probably thinking of the amount of points her house would lose if somebody told the giant the truth. 

"My broomstick flew in the forest, so I went in to bring it back", Paula admitted with a neutral tone. Hagrid's eyebrows jumped in shock, but after a few seconds, he blinked twice.

"Well, did ya get hurt or som'thin'?"

"No. Thank you", she simply answered. The man seemed fazed, and Imara couldn't tell if it was because of her boldness or her insubordination. A few moments of silence followed again, and they looked at the castle at the sound of steps on the grass: Madame Hooch was coming back to them.

"I promise no' to tell, if ya don' put yourself in danger again", Hagrid spoke softly, patting Paula in the shoulder.

"Is he really going to drop it?", the redhaired leader of the Ravenclaw gang questioned in befuddlement.

Even though some of them were shocked that Hagrid (who was now walking to some sort of shed in the distance) let Paula get away with murder, no one said a thing. She just kept on with the class as if nothing had happened. William had achieved to earn a few fans though, Rose among them, and the Hufflepuff who stood in the way between the forest and the girl looked colorless now, and refused to utter a single word for the rest of the hour.

A roaring ensemble of voices hit them as they went back in the castle. Their class schedule was over for the day, and Imara stretched in delight. Tons of Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration homework waited for her to do them in her bag, but there was still so much time left that day, she decided to do procrastinate instead. Entering the Great Hall, she noticed León, Donovan and Trish on the table that was second to the right, and dropped her bag on the wooden surface.

"That was exhausting", she complained. León burst in laughter.

"Really? Well you're on your first year, so you better get used to it or else you'll be mashed to bits. In fact, it's only your first day of school. What happened sweetie?"

"Like, not much, but those first two hours demolished me", she replied with a sigh. Actually, a lot had happened over the course of the last few hours.

"Yeah, had class with that Lady Morgan too", he nodded. "You were right: she's bit of a nuisance. We took so many notes my wrist still hurts."

"Don't be so droopy, León", Donovan advised, his hand and quill still dancing on a piece of parchment that looked like the manuscript of Hamlet.

"She's a twit, though", Trish joined in the conversation. Donovan looked perplexed at her pejorative affirmation, but she went on. "Can't believe I'll have to do my O.W.L.s according to this woman's criteria."

"Why are you playing Wizard's Chess then? Shouldn't you be slogging hard?", León smirked at her.

"Come on, I need to take a break before the shitstorm comes."

"Care to play with me, Patricia?", James popped out from behind, his hands occupied with a pile of books.

"If that was meant as an innuendo, I'd honestly rather die", she shook her head. James looked mildly pissed at her retort, but then she added: "Why don't you go ask Wood?"

He seemed utterly terrified at the idea, and looked at the short-haired girl who took him down a peg when he whined about the outcome of his brother's sorting.

"You know she's mad at me", he answered in a low tone. "But you know, some day, I might go for it - if she doesn't do it before me. And you will all eat your words."

Patricia kept playing, as one of her pawns was hit hard by another piece Imara did not recognise, and James sat with his friends, far away from them. León was opening and reading what looked a dozen letters, and Imara couldn't help but ask:

"Are these from your friends?"

"Oh, I didn't have time for making many friends after we moved", he replied, giving her a half comforting smile. "It's my family who keep sending me those, along with muggle sweets. Here, have one." He gave her an oddly wrapped candy as he continued reading. Imara looked at the sweet in her hands; she was expecting him to give her a sarcastic comeback like he always did, but all she received was some kind of strawberry scented sphere. She tore the paper in half and stared at the pinky ball with the face of the first person who decided to rub two pieces of wood together and made a fire.

"I forgot - you don't swallow those", León warned her before she shoved the candy in her mouth. She opened her eyes at him as if it was poison that she had just ingested, and asked:

"Weh, whad bo I bo 'en?"

"You chew it of course!", he chuckled in amusement. And when she did, a sugary, dense liquid filled her mouth. She nearly jumped off her chair.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it!", she screamed, and Donovan jumped in his seat. "Where can I get more of these?"

"Not in here, of course. But I'll get you some more, I promise."

She kept chewing the piece of candy until it lost great part of its flavour, but still, she was thankful she had given it a try. Pulling her quill and a sheet of parchment off her bag, she started writing Uncle Jak a letter:

_Uncle Jak,_

_Even though not much time has passed as you said, things got weird on our first day. I guess it's about us being a bunch of young wizards trying our magic out, but one of my classmates got his hair burnt and broke his leg in the span of two hours. I guess that doctor must be really good at their job, because his curls grew back to normal, and hopefully his leg will be healed in time for him to come back to class and make it more interesting for us._

_I'm sad to hear that that dragon you found, Auðumbla, was so terribly wounded. But you guys are so good at your job she will probably heal! Who is going to name her offspring? Please, ask them to do it! I want to give it a name._

_Still, I wonder what kind of dragon hurt her, let me know if you find out._

She halted for a moment to think. 

_By the way, what house were you in? People are getting full judgemental here about it, and it seems like Slytherin has a really bad reputation. Also, I heard some say that Hufflepuff is "a house full of losers", but they were way taller than me, and I didn't want to humiliate them with a good punch in the face. I really don't know what's going on in here, so tell me, what's with this fuss? Also, I got sorted in Gryffindor, so I have no idea what other houses say of us. I bet you were placed in here, since it seems like this is the right place for adventurers._

_Have a nice day! Miss you already,_

_Imara_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I haven't updated in a couple weeks! I've recently fallen sick and the medical tests are making it hard to keep up with the timelines I tried to set. Also, I'm aware not much has happened in two chapters, but give it some time... things are about to get better :)
> 
> Note that, during breakfast, many students from different houses just get mixed however they want to. It's during dinner and lunch that they have to seat in their respective tables. Oh, and for those wondering, no: Parkinson being Priscilla's last name is not wrong at all!
> 
> Oh, and I'm sorry if the flight lessons scene seemed too cliché. There was just no chance of Robert flying on a broomstick and not breaking every last one of his joints lol
> 
> Special thanks for the kudos ❤ And thank you all for reading it!


	3. Feet in the air and head on the ground

Even while doing her homework seemed to stretch time, the first weekend of the term went by faster than the Hogwarts express. She spent her free hours either in the Great Hall (despite Rose's suggestions on going to the library) or wandering along with Aaron at the grounds. She visited every possible corner to see of the gardens of orchards, bushes and trees around the greenhouses they would work in, and she thought she distinguished some kind of beige brick maze, vines threatening to completely devour it. They decided to stay out of it for the moment since Aaron didn't seem to like the idea of being lost in it. They sat by the lake on the evenings and enjoyed the calmness of its waters and the nice weather they sooner or later would have to say goodbye to. Peeping in the direction of the forest standing ominously in the distance kept giving her the chills, but Aaron didn't bother to ask her about her behaviour, and he was probably the kind of person who takes their secrets to the grave.

She enjoyed the company of third years as well. Donovan and León had been nothing but nice to her the whole time, and she felt as if she had to make up for it, since everyone kept talking about how "superior" older students were for some reason. Now that everyone was to be seen in the common halls and rooms of the castle, she started looking around every once in a while to check if he would be there, but there was just no trace of him anywhere. On the last day of the weekend, she went to sleep early, a bitter taste in her mouth. At least, she would be attending Herbology on Monday morning. She would rather enjoy learning about new magical plants, since the ones surrounding her home at Norway were often quite normal.

Running down the path to Herbology again was soothing to her. Feeling the grass bend under her shoes evoked vivid images of her childhood at home, and she was starting to familiarise herself with the Hogwarts grounds. Good thing the school was placed in the middle of the green, and not in the grey, crowded metropolis.

They all sat down in different rows of chairs around a long square, waiting for the teacher to begin. A small leaf tried to reach Imara as she walked by it, and she felt curious as to what it would do in case she approached it again. _Might try that later_ , she thought.

"Good evening, boys and girls! I hope your summer went well." Even when his words sounded honest, Aaron looked down the floor, his lips pressed close together. "Since we have no time for sharing our holiday experiences, we will get down to business as soon as possible, shall we? Some of you Gryffindors may remember seeing me around, as I am the head of your house, but my name is Professor Longbottom - you can just call me Neville, if you mind. I have to apology in advance, in case I forget any of your names!"

"He probably will. My mother told me he's a complete disaster", Priscilla whispered to the Ravenclaw partner she had in Potions. Imara was somehow happy about her fruitless efforts in clinging to anyone who would share her disgust towards everything.

They spent their time at class learning about various magical herbs and flowers, and Imara knew it wouldn't be easy to memorise them all, but she would definitely try. Professor Longbottom looked bright and happy about teaching the subject: every time he mentioned a new plant, his face beamed again, and she was glad to have such a nice head of her house. Professor Ghislaine was nice as well, and she hadn't got to meet the head of the Ravenclaw house yet, but the Hufflepuffs were in a worse position since their head of the house was the relentless and severe Professor Coutt. Speaking of which, they had class with next.

Transfigurations was nearly as boring and long as the last time, but their minds were blown when Coutt told them they would transfigure a needle on their next class, and Imara felt slightly better about the subject, now that curiosity grew in her mind. But that excitement died as soon as they walked in the History of Magic classroom.

Then again, there was no teacher around. They all left their belongings on the individual tables, Rose's book already open. Something told Imara she wouldn't really enjoy the subject, but Lavanya seemed to be so enthusiastic about History of Magic, she couldn't help but ask her why.

"You don't know yet?", she answered cheerily. "The teacher! It's Professor Binns, he is a-"

Her sentence was interrupted by a few gasps, and Imara looked front to see their teacher was a ghost. Of course not, who would do better in teaching about the dead?

The class started, and she regretted ever entering the room. Half an hour into the class and her lids were too heavy. A shush from Rose shook her from her slumber to straighten herself up again and pretend to be listening again. Her parchment was nearly empty, except for a sentence that said "Gargoyle strike of 1911", and she checked the Weasley's notes to see that it contained hundreds of beautifully written words. How can she write that nicely at that speed?, she thought, leaning on her left hand. She would probably have to save that energy for later, since they had Defence Against the Dark Arts after the lunch break.

 

Their second day of class went nicely; probably even better than the first. Lady Morgan was as stiff as they all expected her to be, but it was endurable if one knew how to study as if no one was around. They could have had a scarecrow as a teacher for that matter, but it was alright as long as no one spoke or complained (a hard job for Robert Johnson, whose bones and hair were amazingly intact for the whole day). Besides, having Professor Longbottom as a teacher compensated for it, and Imara was happy to be able to look at the midnight sky freely, without a teacher to warn them that going out of the Common Room was not permitted by nighttime. Aaron was visibly happy about Astronomy as well; it wasn't like he was ever willing to smile, but Imara could feel his peace of mind when he looked at the constellations and planets out there.

And before she could notice, the whole week had passed. Doing Defence and Transfiguration homework occupied most of her free time, but she was also starting to learn how to play Wizarding chess: Donovan was really eager to teach her. León kept playing a muggle card game named Poker in the Common Room the whole time, smirking every time James threw his cards at the table in discontent, his cousins Fred and Lucy laughing at his competitiveness. The muggleborn was starting to consider playing in the Great Hall, as it would mean more players, and more money to win from others. Imara was growing fond of Donovan, León and Aaron, and seeing them brought her bliss.

 

On her second Sunday night, she decided to give it a try and find out what her older mates knew about him. Unlike him, she was not ashamed of their relation, but asking Professor Coutt would probably result in the whole cast of teachers trying to have them shake hands and kiss each other's cheek; and she definitely didn't want that.

"Guys", she called León and Donovan when everyone was done having dinner and darting to their respective Common Rooms. "Can I ask you something in private?"

They looked at each other in slight surprise, but walked along with her as they left towards a quiet place.

"Didn't expect you to confess your undying love for me so early, 'Mara." León crossed his hands behind his bushy mane.

"To be honest, I'd rather going on a date with Donovan." León snorted at her response.

"Yeah, good luck with that."

"What is it that worries you, Imara?", Donovan went to the point with a small sigh.

"Well, I know it's just a long shot, but do any of you happen to be friends with someone named Doran?"

A small silence followed, they all standing still at a lonely corner. León seemed to understand where this was going, but Donovan furrowed his brow in a display of confusion. Imara had her eyes fixated on them, still waiting for a readable answer, when León cut the silence:

"Was waiting for you to bring that up", he spoke calmly.

"So you know him?"

"Exactly, León", Donovan interrupted them. "Do you know who she is referring to?"

"I remember everyone I meet: I just don't look like the type of person who would", he vaguely explained. "She's talking about Doran K. Bergen."

Donovan gaped in realization as he finally seemed to remember who this mysterious person was. The sound of torch fire pierced her head.

"You mean that classmate we once had?", he questioned

"Wait, what do you mean you once had?"

León stretched, lost in his thoughts, and evaded her gaze looking for an answer. Imara wasn't certain if the feeling that started grow in her heart was disappointment or anger. Donovan, on the other hand, looked fazed about how serious everything had gone.

"He came to class a few times during our first year of school, but he didn't seem to fully understand English. People wondered what he was doing in Hogwarts at all, but as soon as some weird rumours spread, he stopped showing up."

She rubbed her temples, her breath becoming faster and less profound by the second. León looked like he was ready to jump on her as if launching himself on top of a bomb to prevent anyone else from being hurt. She didn't want to hear what kind of rumours about her brother spread among students back then, so instead of that, she asked:

"You mean he is not in Hogwarts anymore."

"I - I haven't seen him ever since."

They quietly waited as she internally debated how to react to it. Doran, who had spent his life God knows where, wouldn't let her be with him even when they were supposed to attend the same school.

"Why don't we go somewhere quiet", León affirmed: it didn't sound like a suggestion at all. Donovan nodded quickly, and walked along with them as the tall Gryffindor took Imara to their Common Room. She thought she heard Donovan wish them a good night, and when they both walked through the Fat Lady painting, they found the room was nearly empty.

"Everyone has decided to go to bed early", Carla Wood informed them when León looked around. "It's Monday tomorrow, and teachers are about to get more serious about homework and classes."

"So what's a super responsible student like you doing up this late, Carla?", León asked, glancing in the direction of the pile of parchments the girl was writing in but not leaving Imara's side.

"I'm just... trying to make numbers. The Quidditch trials will soon take place, and I don't know who we can afford to get rid of. Hope everyone does their best and gets the role they deserve." She turned back to face him, quill in her hand. "Seriously, León, you should sign up for Quidditch this year, there's so much we could-"

"Nope, not interested", he cut off, plopping himself into one of the couches in front of the cracking fire. He signaled Imara to do the same. "What? Don't you look at me like that, Wood: you know I'm always up for a friendly match. Just don't like serious competitors."

With a heavy sigh, the pale girl stood up, her thick pixie cut bouncing with the movement.

"You always love it when you irk people: being as good as you are, you would be in your element." She shook her head. "But fine, I won't insist. Have a good night, you two."

And with that polite farewell, she left the cozy room, leaving them two alone.

"So", León started cautiously. "You alright?"

"No, I'm not", she finally burst out in rage, standing and roaming around the sofas. "I've always been there for him, but he's never been up to even visiting his sister. Too busy doing whatever - hell if I know. You know, I felt lots of exciting things when I was told I had an older brother, but I guess he just doesn't care about it."

A few warm tears ran down her cheeks. She sat down and sobbed for a few seconds, León still silent. She found out about Doran's existence when she was just a kid, but didn't get to see him until she was about nine: the day he got his letter from Hogwarts. And even then, he only showed himself to inform Uncle Jak and have him buy his books. He probably didn't even want Imara to be there when he and Jak went to get his wand, and she was then left to wonder if he really minded having her as a sister. Not even a word was ever exchanged between them.

After a while, she looked up at León, his expression sober.

"You - despite your behaviour in front of others, you really do understand me, right? You actually have your feet on the ground."

He shifted in his seat, arms crossed, his eyes fixated on a very interesting spot in the ceiling.

"I've had my dose of family drama too. Have two younger siblings to take care of. Even when my parents do their best, their work shifts are just too long, and they aren't home that much. Now that I'm at Hogwarts, I really cannot see them grow up, but that's okay. I will be back to see my sister turn six."

She sniffed, fidgeting her fingers while looking at the chimney. She wasn't certain if it was proper to try and comfort him, but then, he chuckled at her.

"You really could use a tissue right now, you know?" he said, apparently amused by her wet face and nose.

"You idiot", she retorted, throwing a cushion at him. He raised his hands and smiled.

"I surrender to your destructive wrath, my lady. Here, have my pipe of peace." He handed her a paper tissue and rubbed her hair, making it messy.

"You'll tangle it", she complained, trying to push him away in a friendly way.

And that night, she went to bed with a wide smile on her lips.

 

Weeks went by surprisingly fast. Imara was starting to get better at Herbology and Astronomy, and even when she somehow managed to pass her Transfiguration lessons and keep her homework up to date, she would never be half as good as Helga, who was now not afraid to show her transfiguration skills. She had already achieved to successfully transform a strand of hair into a golden needle, a rat into a matchbox, a book into a bird (which got on Rose's nerves for a minute, worried that the book would never be brought back) and a candle into a butterfly. Everyone was amazed at her ability, as was Professor Coutt, who kept giving her house points, to Parkinson's annoyance.

However, Imara had not gotten herself to improve her Potions skills yet. She would be afraid of failing if it wasn't for Scorpius's aiding hand. They were starting to get along somehow, and Koulèv seemed to celebrate it, as she happily nodded whenever he gave her the right guidance. Moreover, Professor Ghislaine did not hesitate to help them anytime needed, and she never got mad at Johnson burning his face, or Johnson carbonising his hair, or Johnson being Johnson in general. Imara kept worrying about Fourier's physical integrity, but besides of being on the verge of tears for his crazed partner, he seemed just fine.

They all wished they had that much help from a teacher in Defence Against the Dark Arts, too. Not only the first years; but people from every other grade were concerned about that subject. Trish and Ada were constantly pulling each other's hair in stress, screaming about how hard it would be for them to pass their O.W.L.s. Her third year friends, on the other hand, were rather excited that Friday afternoon. Imara was chewing some curry fried rice when León happily sat on the Gryffindor table.

"What's with that grin? What are you plotting now?", she asked him.

"Oh, not much. You're too young to understand", he simply replied, grabbing a few baked potatoes with spinach. Giving him a soft biff on the shoulder, she waited for an elaborated answer, which was finally provided by Trish.

"He's probably happy about his first trip to Hogsmeade."

"Trip... where?", Imara questioned. She had no clue what they were talking about. Were they allowed to travel during their stay at school?

"It's a wonderful place", León interjected. "There are thousands of amazing shops you _won't_ get to visit though. I'm sorry: only fabulous students get to visit there."

"Come on!", Rose exclaimed. "There's got to be a way we can go to Hogsmeade, right? I know my uncle loved Zonko's."

"There is", he nodded in agreement. "Only, you have to be thirteen - oh, and get a signed permission from your parents or guardians."

Rose grunted at that. She had obviously been keen on going to Hogsmeade, but apparently, her family had not told her she would have to be thirteen for that. Imara seriously hoped that Uncle Jak could sign that permission form for her, or she would most likely see herself alone in the castle during the weekends on her third year. She would ask him about it in her next letter, and the female dragon's egg as well, since she had now been told she had completely recovered from her wounds and was causing trouble like dragons often do.

When they were done eating, Donovan neared them with a joyous expression in his face.

"I'm so happy that we are going on our first trip to Hogsmeade!"

"How couldn't you be", León stood up and stepped out of the wooden bench. "This is the closer you'll be to your _platonic love_ this week. Maybe you can ask him on a date to Madame Puddifoot's."

With an offended gasp, Donovan walked away, his friend elbowing him like a hundred times a minute. Imara would really have asked who they were talking about if it didn't look like Donovan was super embarassed about the matter, so she let it be for a while. She walked along with them to a crowded Entrance Hall, and listened to the caretaker of Hogwarts reading a long list of names to check on who would leave and who wouldn't. Some Slytherins were talking about how the first Quidditch match would take place that Saturday. James high-fived his friends and jumped out the door when his name was heard, and León kept moonwalking in circles around Donovan, who jolted when someone named "Angel Delacroix" was called. At the end, nearly all of the third years had left, with the exception of a Hufflepuff who had somehow forgotten to fill her form during the summer break.

Imara left then, thinking about how she would spend her day. She still had a long History of Magic essay to do, which was due next Monday, but she fancied doing something different for the moment. She would probably end up doing it in a last-minute rush... still; doing what she pleased on a Friday afternoon sure was worth it.

Finally, she decided to go for a walk. The greenness and fresh air around the castle cleared her mind, so she went to change her uniform into some casual apparel and rushed to one of the back doors she had recently discovered by sauntering in the halls. An older Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff couple were hiding down the stairs, curling up by a window, and she kept descending since it had nothing to do with her. When she walked out the tower and into the grounds, she heard someone's sobbing stop at the sound of the door closing. Not entirely sure what she should do, she let her inner Gryffindor do the thinking and circled the round walls to find Aaron sitting on a corner, a few books and parchments by his side. She felt her heart break at the sight of his reddened and watery eyes, and hurried to crouch down in front of him.

"What happened?", she asked him, trying not to invade his personal space. "Was it Parkinson? I'm going to smash her nose into her skull if she hurt you, I swear-"

"Please", he begged. "D-don't."

Imara sighed as she made herself comfortable on the hard, grassy floor. The only times Aaron dared to look directly at other person were those when they were about to do something dangerous, or stupid. Or both.

"I-it wasn't her who hurt me like t-this", he went on. "It just... happens, s-sometimes."

"Are you not feeling okay? You can always count on me if you want someone to listen", she offered. He scratched the back of his head, looking somewhere else now.

"T-thank you. But, w-whenever I feel sad, I just like to revise Astronomy..."

She lied down, leaning on her right elbow and checking on the enormous star chart on Aaron's crossed legs. It displayed thousands of tiny white notes probably written by him, and judging by the state of the paper's creases, it was some rather old document.

"You really do like Astronomy, don't you?"

"I do", he replied, scanning the constellations and stars drawn on the black paper. "I-I always had a thing for stars. I read thousands of astronomy books when I was younger. Looking at the night sky makes me calm for some reason..."

"Yeah, me too", she acknowledged, lying upwards and observing the coulds. It was relatively sunny that day, and she felt glad that her friends went to Hogsmeade with such nice weather. _Wouldn't be much of a nice trip if it rained cats an dogs_ , she thought, gazing at a cloud that looked like a dolphin.

"T-that's Lady Morgan", he mumbled, looking at the distance. She sat up straight to see that he was right: the professor was darting through the grounds at a fast pace, a black suitcase held in her fist.

"Where the hell is she going?", she questioned. Aaron shook his head slightly, his mouth stretched. "No other teacher leaves during the term, right?"

"M-maybe they do, but we don't know."

"... freaky woman... always leavin' the castle on Fridays...", some voice muttered somewhere close to them. Imara bent to see that it was Hagrid, the keeper of the grounds, who was raking some leaves into a pile. "Oh!", he blurted out at the sight of them. "Didn' see ye kids in there. The day is too nice to spen' it studyin', don' ye think?"

"You're right", she agreed, standing up and shaking leaves of grass off her clothes. "Care to go for a walk, Aaron?"

"O-oh", he snapped out of his thoughts. "S-sure."

He gathered his parchments and his star chart and put it all in his bag, standing like Imara had done a few seconds before him.

"You will be our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, won't you?"

"Yes!", Hagrid answered happily, straightening his clothes in pride. "Me favourite subject when I attended this school, indeed."

"Mine too, probably", she guessed when they walked nearer. "Can't wait until we are on our third year."

The giant seemed to turn red at that, a wide grin plastered on his face.

"Ye will all love it, I hope! I give my bes' whenever I teach. Oh, I bet ye will enjoy the classes that take place in the Dark Forest."

She blinked. Everytime she thought of that forest, a weird sensation invaded her mind. But she had never told anyone about it, so how could Hagrid know?

"What do you mean by that?", she asked, her eyebrows furrowed. He jumped in surprise and shook his head.

"Oh - nothin'", he quickly replied. "I'm sorry. Merlin's beard, why do I keep sayin' things I shouldn'?"

He mumbled a few incoherent things while scurrying away, jumping a few feet with each step. Imara was befuddled by his demeanour, but most importantly, she was suspicious about why he would say that. What did he actually know about her, apart from her name? Aaron kept looking at her, worried about her sudden quiet behaviour. She stomped without a destination, her mind busy with questions, and her friend scuttled by her side. A Ravenclaw she knew to be in her class was reading a book by a thick-trunked tree. His wavy hair nearly covered his eyes, but he didn't seem to mind. He looked up to face them and adjusted his glasses.

"Oh, hi, Abbey. Bergen", he formally greeted them. Imara would have felt bad for not remembering his name if she hadn't been lost in her thoughts. "There were some noisy Gryffindors arguing about Quidditch nearby the Library entrance, so I came here to take a break."

She finally let go of her pondering and focused on the current events, even when a feeling of being followed started squeezing her brain. She looked at the Ravenclaw and asked:

"You came here to read during your break?"

"Why, yes", he tilted his head. "Reading a novel can be quite pleasant, if you get to enjoy it."

She now realised that she had thought of buying a book to read at nights by the beginning of the course, but hadn't remembered the idea until now.

"Can you... please refresh my memory? I don't know your name yet", she admitted, looking at the floor.

"Oh, it's alright", he answered. "My name is Joshua Abel Shelby, we haven't been introduced to each other yet." They politely shook hands, and Imara started again:

"Okay, Joshua", she called him by his first name as she usually did. "Can you recommend me a novel?"

"Of course", he looked pleased at her question, and for a moment, he reminded her of his older house mate Donovan. "For a start, I highly suggest you try reading Dickens. But if you happen to like terror stories, my favourite author is definitely Edgar Allan Poe."

She took mental notes of the names he said. For some reason, and even though she had never admitted it, some kind of thirst for danger and fear lurked deep down in her heart; so maybe, she would get herself something written by that Allan Poe. Shelby offered that he lended some books to her himself, and they agreed that he would bring them during dinner that night.

Now that she was a bit calmer than she had been a few minutes before, she said goodbye to Shelby and went on to visit the Stone Circle that everyone kept talking about. She had never been inside the circle, and wanted to check on the menhirs. Some Slytherins were flying in the Quidditch field, and she heard some cheering as well. _Enthusiastic - for a practice, that is_. The sensation of being observed still pierced the back of her head, and she wondered if some student was staring from the distance.

At last, they stepped in the circle. The stones were positioned in a way that was meant to form a sundial, but she literally had no idea on how to read it. When she was carefully observing the stones from a closer look, a voice suddenly popped up behind her.

"I'm a w-weirdo. Am I not?"

She turned to face Aaron once again, perplexed about his unexpected question. He was standing by the side of one of the rocks, looking down with a kind of melancholic expression on his face. She walked up to him, determined to make him feel better.

"No! Who would say that to you?"

"I-in my muggle school, t-they used to call me that", was his response.

"Screw them", she snapped. She suppressed the urge to place a hand on his shoulder, since he would probably feel awkward about such physical approach, so instead, she stood right before him. "Aaron, you're the best. You are intelligent, kind and loyal. You rock at Astronomy, and you always keep me from doing somehting stupid, like beating Parkinson's ass the way she deserves, or walking in the forest on my own."

"But - but us Slytherins a-are meant to be cunning and s-smart."

"Who cares about what kind of people our houses were made for?", she retorted. "We are more than four colours - or eight, now that I think about it. We are complex beings, you can't just sort us people into a few stereotypes; not to mention the expectancy for them to act the same for the whole year, or seven years for that matter!"

He blinked fast for a second, his eyes on hers again.

"What I truly mean is, you're my best friend, Aaron. You're the best. And I will always stand for you against bullies or teachers, no matter what."

For a moment, she wished that he was capable of managing a smile, or any kind of facial expression as a response. But the way he kept looking at her, resolute and firm, made her think that her words had had an impact on him. He nodded with determination, and then went back to evading her eyes.

"Keep your head up, Aaron", she smiled as they walked back to the castle. "Don't ever change."

"Y-you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I am aware that this chapter was kind of shorter than the first two! The reason is, I think they are too long to have a proper beginning and ending: first year story arcs aren't nearly as long as the incoming ones. 
> 
> When will Imara start appreciating Rose's company, though.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos! And for reading!


	4. All souls night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hallowe'en has arrived! But, as we all know, Hogwarts is quite a special place to be at by that time of the year...

The library was so quiet, Imara wouldn't have said there were students in the room at all. Madame Pince, who stood impotently behind an old looking desk, made sure of that: she did not hesitate giving them a cold menacing glare whenever they dared to speak loudly.

Imara stared at the curtains, slightly open to allow some light in. The sun bathed whichever tables, chairs and shelves it came upon with, and a few dust particles danced among the golden rays. Even when she was at ease with the peace of the place, the feeling of being watched she was now used to still clouded her mind. Although she sometimes did turn back to check if what she perceived was true, she always found herself alone in the corridors, and had given up on finding out what it was about.

A finger poked her arm, and she jumped back to reality to face Rose again. She had insisted on helping Imara revise her free History of Magic essay, which she had decided to be about the Soap blizzard of 1378. Imara had considered writing about the Werewolf Code of Conduct, but the fact that they had to hide themselves and their condition really upset her. Rose handed her draft back, a few red ink marks on it. She checked on the corrections, trying to learn her lesson on how to expound a historic act, but these weeks she had had a hard time focusing on anything that wasn't the forest or her brother, who seemed to ignore her existence like he had always done. Where was he? Was he even in the castle? That's what she had once thought, considering Professor Coutt's words. Rubbing her forefront, she nodded everytime she bumped upon a piece of corrected text until there were no red marks left to see, Rose smiling when she stopped to think and rewrite the sentences again. She enjoyed the warmness of the British autumn, but being in direct contact with the sunlight while withheld among those four protecting walls made her feel overheated somehow.

"Imara!", a voice hissed from the doorway. She turned her head to see Scorpius, who was holding a paper plane in his hands. He tossed it, and the aircraft flew directly towards her, landing on their table. She opened the paper and read:

_Don't forget we have to improve your brewing. You will be alone in your final test. See you next Tuesday afternoon._

How he had found out that their final test was to be done alone, she didn't know. But she nodded in his direction, dismissing him, and he left down the stairs again. She was thankful to have him as a partner, even though he sometimes got a bit too demanding, as if what he had learned back home was common knowledge.

Her eyes were weary by the time she went down to the main building of the castle. Her mouth was dry, and some of her friends were probably resting in the Great Hall. As if on cue, she spotted León and Trish playing Exploding Snap on a table, and a bunch of older Gryffindors were being noisier than usual a few feet away from them. Imara stood on her tips to check who was talking in the middle of the stir, but everyone seemed to be way taller than her. She easily gave up and sat down by León, watching as a Giant Squid card exploded on the table.

"You aren't as patient as I thought, Trish", he remarked, poking two cards with the tip of his wand.

"Cut it, Eras", she called him by his last name.

"That was a nice attempt of pronunciating it, I'll give you that", he admitted. "But can you give it a try with my _second_ last name?"

"You Spanish people are weird", Ada shook her head, her eyes popping from the back of a witch magazine. "Why would you have two last names?"

"So that I can mock you all for trying to say Carvajal."

Ada and Trish started trying to pronounce the foreign word, but no one seemed to come close enough to sound convincing, since León kept emitting brief laughs at their efforts. Finally, Trish ended up winning the Exploding Snap game, and he smirked as she gloated over her victory.

"You can pronounce your last name, but can you win at Exploding Snap?"

"What were those Gryffindors arguing about?", Imara asked when the noisy mob finally split off and sat down. León had a gander at them and acknowledged:

"I think some of them complained about not being on the team this year. You can tell Wood is going to have some trouble over the course, since she's the new Captain of the team. They think they can get what they want by complaining, but you know, she's a determined one. Won't give up her choices, I reckon."

Imara looked at the green eyed girl and blinked. No wonder the third years were so obsessed with her, even when James claimed to be "first in line". She admired her strength: in spite of being the popular girl of her year, she was always polite and nice to everyone, but also firm on her beliefs and willful.

"Do you have a crush on her?", León queried, his eyebrows jumping at Imara.

"H-hey, I'm eleven, for God's sake", she snapped back at him, punching his shoulder - a kind of hit he was now getting used to receiving. "You just want to play matchmaker with everyone. What about you, León? Do you like her?"

He closed his eyes, his smirk stretching into a pensive look.

"Sure she's nice", he ratified, "but I'm really not into that."

"Into what?", she narrowed her eyes, wondering what that meant.

"Hey, no Slytherins allowed!", some of James's friends complained when Aaron walked up to their table. "We're discussing our strategy for the first match here!"

"He's my friend", Imara spoke clear and loud. Aaron wavered for a second, but hurried to sit by her side as she gestured him to do so. "We don't care about your stupid match", she went on. A half smile flourished on León's face.

"Well", James threw in. "Don't complain if we lose. First years don't know a thing."

"That's how you do it, Imara", León cheered. "People get too excited about these matches."

A flap of wings made Imara's hair fly around her face. Máni had landed on top of her head, making herself comfortable and sticking her claws so deep in her skull she feared she would tear it open. Her clutch was so tight she didn't even move when Imara shook her head, and the redhead sighed as she grabbed the letter from her beak. Aaron opened his eyes wide at the sudden appearance of her owl, but didn't move when the bird started boucing her head back and forth to have a closer look at him.

_Dear Imara,_

_That Robert Johnson must be crazy to do all that stuff you wrote me about in your last letter. I hope he doesn't get expelled if he means to work on any field imparted in Hogwarts. He reminds me of someone who was in my class, but I doubt they are related at all, since you told me he's a muggleborn and my classmate came from an all-wizard family._

_I'm glad to announce Auðumbla's egg has finally hatched! I thought you'd want to know, since you were so excited about it. She's a terrible hatchling, this one: so violent and bloodthirsty for her age we called her Níðhöggr. Hope she doesn't end up being as fearsome as the mythological dragon, though._

_As for the Dark Forest, and referring to your last question: it is a frightening place, but not as dangerous as some might think. Magical creatures live in there, such as centaurs and hippogriffs, and more so (some rumoured about a pack of werewolves lurking in the forest back in my day). Your mother really enjoyed venturing into it from time to time, and earned a few scolds because of it. She had to clean the broom cupboards under detention so many times they called her "the cleaner", but to her back - she would have definitely kicked their asses if she had found out._

_Anyway, don't go in there unless a teacher tells you to! I know you're brave enough to do it, but that doesn't mean you have to. Hope everything is alright,_

_Uncle Jak_

"I - is that Norwegian?", Aaron asked.

"Yeah! We sometimes write in English, sometimes in Norwegian. I think we pretty much switch between languages a bit too much."

"Didn't take you for the nosy type, Aaron", León crossed his hands behind his head. Aaron turned from pale-white to tomato-red in a matter of seconds. "It's just a joke, don't worry", he added when he noticed the disturbance on the blonde's face.

"He has enough with Parkinson, don't you bother him now."

"Oh, that Slytherin crybaby? She's disgusting", León opined, Donovan walking in the Hall and sitting by his side. He started reorganizing his pile of parchments and greeted them with a smile.

"She keeps insulting Aaron over his blood status", Imara continued. Aaron seemed uneasy about the matter. "I can't imagine how it goes down in the dungeons."

"Well: thus, we can play spot the judgemental prick", León concluded. Donovan raised his eyes to look at them, but sighed and muttered:

"I can't believe people keep judging others like that. It's 2016 already."

"Speaking of which", a blonde Slytherin girl spoke while she passed by, "León, is your brother finally coming to Hogwarts?"

Even when the sentence itself didn't have to be harsh, it _sounded_ like it was said in a harsh tone. León raised one of his eyebrows, not looking at the girl, and rested his elbow on the table as if nothing of his concern had been said. Donovan looked rather tense at the girl's question, but she had left without seeing the effect her words had had on them. Imara had seen her before: Angel Delacroix was her twin. He was tall as her, with long hair, and always looked rather calm. They both were on León and Donovan's class.

"So", León started to change the subject. "Are you kids excited about Hallowe'en? It's coming soon."

"Oh", Imara crossed her legs on the wooden bench in a yoga-like position. "I've never been to a Hallowe'en ceremony before. We have Irish ancestry, so my uncle has always tried to take the day off and celebrate with me, but I don't think we took it as seriously as Hogwarts might."

"Yeah, they make it big in here. Floating Jack-o'-lanterns, a feast, candies all over the place..."

They chattered for as long as they could before León left to "chill". "Lots of things I got to do, ladies", he told them. Donovan insisted on playing wizarding chess with Imara, admitting that he was tired of studying for that day - a rare thing for somebody like him to say. Aaron enjoyed watching the game, his chin leaning on both his crossed arms on the table, and Imara felt a bit ashamed that she had (once again) lost against the long-haired ravenclaw.

 

She spent the rest of the week trying to focus on her studies, but everyone kept making a big fuss of the first Quidditch match: Gryffindor and Slytherin would have to play against each other on the first weekend of November, and some people told her it wasn't just a match; it was the match. Not only the older students cared about it, but Rose seemed excited about her cousin playing as a Chaser on his team, and Parkinson and her Group A friends kept bragging about how good the Slytherins were. Imara wasn't sure if she wanted to witness such atrocity ( _a bunch of wizard students flying on broomsticks and batting iron balls towards each other? sounds safe enough_ ), but Donovan, who was quite the fan of the sport, assured they weren't in any danger since the teachers and Madam Pomfrey would be present as well.

She noticed León kept staying up until really late every night at the Gryffindor Common Room, but hadn't asked him how he kept waking up in the morning yet. Those weird cables she once saw him wearing sometimes hung from his inner ears. Hallowe'en would take place the next Monday, and she prepared herself for the event by reading some of the Edgar Allan Poe stories that Shelby had lended her. She was starting to be accustomed to reading every night, which helped her endure her insomnia by making her feel somnolent on an acceptable time. Plus, the constant feeling she had of being observed stopped everyday when she walked into the Gryffindor Common Room, which gave her an idea of who it couldn't be, if her senses were right.

However, the feeling persisted and turned even stronger from time to time.

On the 31st, she jumped out of the bed feeling energised. Sadly for her, it was kind of late by the time she had woken up, and she darted out of the girl's dormitory and down the spiral staircase to see the Common Room had been decorated with thematic ornaments. Paper bats flapped their wings here and there, causing some students to jump in a fright sometimes. There were pumpkin juice jars on the main table, and someone had clipped some impressive animated drawings telling the legend of the Jack-o'-lantern on the noticeboard.

She took advantage of the free time she had before the classes started by writing a greetings card to Uncle Jak at the Great Hall, and wished him a happy Samhain night - even if it was without her, which made them both a bit sad. She left on a rush, a butter biscuit between her teeth: Transfigurations was first, and she definitely didn't want to see Professor Coutt's severe face when someone was late.

Hours went by faster than she expected them to. She had been daydreaming about the Hallowe'en feast since León told her and Aaron about it, and her excitement had become a bit too obvious by the time the classes were over. She entered the Great Hall when their flying lessons ended: last afternoon, León had suggested they all hang out in the castle to celebrate Hallowe'en "the way it should be done", and she couldn't help but wonder what plans he had for the day. She met him along with Rose, Aaron and Fred. Surprisingly enough, Scorpius had asked to join them, and Imara thought it to be either because of his nosiness or because he was bored, but everyone seemed just fine with it. He didn't often talk to any other Slytherin students, even though he had a name in the school, but he didn't seem like he minded keeping up with the Malfoy popularity. Donovan kept scowling at León when they all gathered in the Hall, but left to visit the library even before they got started.

"What are you two planning to do?", Imara asked León and Fred as they dragged them along the corridors.

"You mean what _have we planned_ to do", Fred answered enigmatically, a mischievous smirk on his coffee-toned freckled face.

"You all really have no clue what you do on Hallowe'en, do you?", León questioned. "You ickle first years never cease to surprise me."

"Wait, where are we going?", Rose seemed fazed about the path they were taking, down some stairs she and Imara didn't recognise.

"This is a backdoor to the dungeons, isn't it?", Scorpius noted, his tone suspicious. Fred nodded and started walking backwards in front of them.

"Aye, you're right. Clever kid, I reckon", he affirmed, his hair bouncing with each step he took, "or maybe, adventurous enough to know. So, do you kids know anything about Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"You haven't...!", Rose exclaimed, halting her pace for a second. Fred and León laughed at her astonishment, and opened a door which lead to a huge balcony oriented towards the lake.

"Now we wait." León cupped his ear in his palm to hear better, and Imara tried to keep a straight face as hundreds of questions grew in her head. Scorpius didn't try to hide his wonder, though, and Rose started biting her nails in nervousness as her cousin patted her shoulder.

"We have a mole in the Slytherin room", Fred began to explain. "They have given a _special_ delivery to our dear friend Parkinson, who must be opening her secret admirer's letter right now."

"Are you going to put the blame on someone else?", Scorpius narrowed his eyes.

"My dear Slythie, of course not", the redhaired third year answered. "It was written in such way nobody could track its graphology."

"And if they tried to trace us magically", León continued his partner in crime's sentence, "they would find me guilty. No worries, kids."

They all waited a bit longer in the balcony, exposed to the fresh breeze of October. Suddenly, a thrilling shriek was heard, and they recognised it to come from Parkinson's lips. Imara couldn't help but laugh along with her older mates, and she would have sworn to discern the hint of a smile on Scorpius's face. Rose kept shifting in her place, but didn't dare leave them in there, and when her cousin and León started darting towards the corridor they had just been at, she scampered to chase them. The two evildoers grabbed the edge of a painting's frame and swung it open to reveal a rectangular opening. The stomping of feet invaded their ears, and suddenly, they all saw Parkinson's black ponytailed hair flying upstairs on a lower corridor. After a few seconds, a swarm of enormous, red and blue tinted bees appeared at the corner, buzzing after her at an amazing speed.

Fred was now grabbing his own stomach, literally rolling on the flor dying of laughter, and León was covering his mouth, giggling and looking at Rose. Imara could barely see the disappointment in her face, since she was crying and guffawing like crazy herself. Her cheeks started to hurt.

"Was it you who delivered that, Scorpius?", Rose furrowed her brows at him.

"I truly haven't done a thing", he replied, a slightly amused tone in his voice.

"On one side, I can't believe you guys", Rose went on, shaking her head.

"Why, you won't snitch on us, will you, my favourite cousin?"

"I...", she uttered in response. She rubbed her eyes and left with a sigh, leaving them to wonder. But Imara knew she wouldn't, as she had been biting her lips as if holding a smile before she walked away.

That was one of the funniest days Imara had lived for a while. She couldn't remember when "hanging out with friends" had become so amusing, but since she had never had the chance to spend any time with friends back in Norway, she wished for every future hang out day of her life to be this good. When Scorpius left them, the three kids spent the rest of the afternoon slipping through a few secret passages she had never known of. Apparently, some of those were shown to Fred by the hand of James, who held a mysteriously vast amount of knowledge on those. They decided to call it a day when Coutt caught them trying to sneak through a fruit bowl painting, so they had to pretend to be waiting for some Hufflepuff (whose Common Room was supposed to be close to their position). After the lavender scented witch left them alone, they decided to call it a day, and left to their respective Common Rooms to get ready for the feast.

 

The feast went even better than she had expected it to. Hundreds of carved pumpkins lit the Great Hall, and some magical lightnings flashed them from time to time. Professor Ghislaine had enchanted a bunch of top-hatted skeletons so they danced in front of the school, and a gasp escaped Lavanya's mouth at the Ravenclaw table when they witnessed their entrance - a tap dancing spectacle with some swing music played in the background. Piles of different candies waited for them to eat them on the tables, and Imara discovered a new love for the taste of some enormous bat-shaped sweets she had just discovered.

The night went well, and for once, she didn't feel like she was being observed. She let herself enjoy the remaining hours of the day and left the Great Hall with a warming happiness inside her heart.

 

Quietness reigned the place. It was pitch dark, but a cobbled hallway could be seen if one focused hard enough. A door stood at the end of the corridor, apparently closed. Some murkiness swirled around, giving a magically enigmatic tint to the ambience.

Suddenly, the sound of glass shattering against the floor broke the silence.

Footsteps then followed. High heels stomped on the stones at an amazing speed, and a tall silhouette hit the door open and rushed out of the room. Moments later, a broad shadow emerged from the darkness, and jumped on all fours to race after the previous figure.

 

He woke up feeling cold and thrilled. His heartbeat thumped hard against his chest, threatening to tear his ribcage open. Pearls of sweat ran down his temples, and a few strands of his white-blond hair fell before his eyes. Agitation filled his mind; he got up from his bed as silently as he could and rubbed one of his fabric tissues over his forefront. When he walked out of the room to grab himself some water from the cold Common Room jars, he noticed someone was awake as well: Scorpius was leaning on the door frame, looking him in the eye with a brow crease.

"W-what time is it?", Aaron asked, his heart still throbbing strongly.

"It's half-past two", the pointy-nosed boy answered.

"Why are y-you awake?"

"Well, I'm a light sleeper, and you were sobbing and all."

"Sobbing...?", the short boy muttered. He was still nervous about the dream he had had, so he hurried to tell him all about it: the events of the dream and how he sometimes had visions in his sleep. Malfoy looked back at him as if he was crazy for a moment, but then, he pensively covered his mouth with his hand. "W-we have to do s-something."

"Look", Scorpius began, but was interrupted by another voice.

"Who was the first person?", Paula Forester asked from the girl's room door. Both dormitories were so close it was a surprise that she had been the only one to get up and approach them. Aaron's face beamed at her sight for a second.

"I-I couldn't tell. It was s-so dark... We have to d-do something now."

"Malfoy, didn't you try to brew some invisibility potion on your own the other day down in the Potions Classroom?"

"How do you...?", Scorpius began, but shook his head. "Doesn't matter if I do own some. I am clearly not the action type, and this seems dangerous enough as to tell some teacher about it."

"W-we don't have time!". Aaron had just been so loud both his housemates gaped at him. It was uncommon for him to actually speak, so raising his voice was surely a sign of desperation, coming from him. "T-this person might have been attacked!"

He didn't even have place for the thought of someone actually believing him about his dreams and visions. Most of them were visions of the present, which wasn't _that_ useful, but some were about the future and possible outcomes of his actions. His muggle school classmates used to bully him for that, calling him a weirdo the first time he told somebody about it, so he completely quit talking to people for a while. Now someone else knew about it, and didn't take him for a nutter. And it was two people who trusted him about his visions without questioning it. It made him feel excited somehow, and he wanted to make a good use of his abilities.

Scorpius sighed and headed back to their dormitory, his wand up while casting a Lumos spell. After a few seconds, he walked out of the room again, a vial on his hands.

"This won't last long-", he tried to finish before Paula grabbed it and drank.

"It _will_ work on all of us, won't it?"

"It probably will", he went on while drinking his share of the potion, leaving the rest in Aaron's shaking hands. "But we have to hurry or else we will be discovered."

It had taken them a couple minutes to get out of the Common Room, but luckily for them, they didn't bump into any other student or teacher. A ghost stopped at the sight of them, but proceeded to float in some direction, whispering muffled words to himself while he went through one of the thick, dungeon walls. They three held hands so they wouldn't get lost, since they couldn't see each other, but even so, they rushed towards the place Aaron was taking them. He had a feeling that the door from his dream, the one both of the figures came from, was the Library door: so he darted towards the first floor.

Before they got there, the figure found them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! I'm so bad at editing, I'm sorry if you see any errors on this text. When I try to write in italics, it only works for one paragraph at a time, and not for a whole piece of text - no matter where I put the tags...
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter nor any of the characters made by J.K. Rowling.  
> I only own the stories, places and characters that do not stand in the original saga.


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